Ui. 
 
 i ARCHIBALD 
 SMITH 
 
fyiAfcit; Ttt/. Ju>&L_^ 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
THE CHILDREN OF THE FUTURE. i6mo,$i.oo 
 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG. Illustrated. i6mo, 
 
 fl-25- 
 
 IN COLLABORATION WITH MRS. WIGGIN. 
 
 THE STORY HOUR. A Book for the Home and 
 Kindergarten. Illustrated. i6mo, $1.00. 
 
 CHILDREN S RIGHTS. A Book of Nursery Logic. 
 i6mo, Ji.oo. 
 
 THE REPUBLIC OF CHILDHOOD. In three vol 
 umes, each, i6mo, Jti.oo. 
 I. FROEBEL S GIFTS. 
 II. FROEBEL S OCCUPATIONS 
 
 III. KINDERGARTEN PRINCIPLES AND PRAC 
 TICE. 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK. 
 
PKONKS AT HACANUCHI (page 230) 
 
UNDER THE CACTUS 
 FLAG 
 
 A STORY OF LIFE IN MEXICO 
 
 BY 
 
 NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH 
 
 Author of " The Children of the Future ; " joint author with Kate 
 
 Douglas Wiggin of " The Republic of Childhood," 
 
 " The Story Hour," and " Children s Eights. 11 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 1899 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1890. BY NORA A. SMITH 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
5 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. IN THE DARK 1 
 
 II. A LIGHT APPEARS 10 
 
 III. " ONE TO MAKE READY, AND TWO TO 
 PREPARE " 22 
 
 IV. ON THE FRONTIER 29 
 
 V. AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE ... 44 
 
 VI. A BREATHING SPACE . . . .61 
 
 VII. Ho, FOR CERITAS ! 78 
 
 VIII. FIRST IMPRESSIONS 93 
 
 IX. A YOUTHFUL TEACHER ... 108 
 
 X. A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL .... 125 
 
 XL "LA NOCHE BUENA" .... 142 
 
 XII. THE COMING OF SPRING .... 154 
 
 XIII. RUMORS OF WAR 170 
 
 XIV. MANY SORROWS 188 
 
 XV. A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER AND OTHER 
 
 MATTERS 207 
 
 XVI. BACANUCHI 223 
 
 XVII. MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING . 239 
 
 XVIII. MIDSUMMER DAYS 254 
 
 XIX. " ADIOS ! HASTA LA VISTA ! " 268 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 PEONES AT BACANUCHI (page 230) . Frontispiece 
 
 STREET SCENE IN CERITAS 72 
 
 OUTSKIRTS OF CERITAS 90 
 
 THE SELLER OF OLLAS 106 
 
 PEDRO AND LAURO 118 
 
 A BAKER S BOY 144 
 
 WASHERWOMEN AT BACANUCHI 230 
 
 OX-CART WITH AZABACHE AND COPETON . , , 236 
 
UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN THE DARK. 
 
 IN the quiet town of Corona, far to the 
 south of the great western State that basks 
 along the warm Pacific shores, lived little 
 Mary Annesley. She was barely sixteen 
 when this chapter of her story opens, and 
 whatever might have been said of her after 
 wards, she would scarcely at that time have 
 been selected as a heroine of romance. 
 
 Her tresses, when unbound, lacked much 
 of sweeping the ground ; her eyes were not 
 of the kind that dazzle the beholder with 
 their brilliancy ; nobody had yet likened 
 the pose of her figure to the sway of a lily 
 on its stalk, and her entrance into crowded 
 assemblies had never, so far, provoked gen 
 eral murmurs of admiration. 
 
 As for her mental jewels, she could cer 
 tainly not " jest in ancient Greek," and it 
 
2 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 is doubtful if at any age she could have 
 written, as did a sweet girl graduate the 
 other day, a paper on " Singular Solutions 
 of Differential Equations of the First Order 
 in Two Variants, and the Geometrical Pro 
 perties of Certain Invariants, and Co-Vari 
 ants of their Complete Privitives." 
 
 Yet Mary was a bright girl and a good 
 student, with a very pretty taste for music 
 and an unusual proficiency, for her age, in 
 modern languages ; and as for her personal 
 appearance, if she had not the charms of 
 the ladies fair of romance and chivalry, she 
 had at least a straight nose, a sweet, wild- 
 rose color, and brown hair with so satisfac 
 tory a natural wave that it put to shame 
 the product of the curling-iron. 
 
 Mary was an orphan, yet even here she 
 cannot pose as a heroine in distress, for her 
 parents had died in her early infancy and 
 she had ever since been the welcome charge 
 of her aunt and uncle, the Moores of Glen 
 Ellen, near Corona. Under the friendly 
 shelter of their roof and in the companion 
 ship of her cousin Celia, she had never 
 known a day s unhappiness, never felt the 
 cold breath of anxiety, until a year before, 
 the kindly, happy household had suddenly 
 
IN THE DARK 3 
 
 been called to go down into the Valley of 
 the Shadow with dear uncle Bertram. It 
 was a year ago, his grave had long been 
 green with softest grass and wreathed with 
 trailing vines ; but the little family at Glen 
 Ellen still missed as sorely every day his 
 quick step, his hearty voice, his kindly smile 
 and helpful hand-clasp. 
 
 Not only so, but the three women desper 
 ately needed his wise counsel and his strong 
 grasp of affairs, for their business matters, 
 as soon as he left them, had straightway 
 fallen into wild confusion, and everybody 
 employed to untangle the skein seemed but 
 to succeed in knotting it more tightly. 
 
 Mrs. Moore, who was a semi-invalid, and 
 for whose sake they had come to California, 
 had not been well enough for years to set 
 herself to the task of understanding the 
 various investments her husband had made ; 
 the girls were too young to realize anything 
 about money, save that they had always 
 had enough for their simple wants, and in 
 fact, and very naturally too, Mr. Moore 
 had always been Secretary of the Treasury, 
 Chancellor of the Exchequer, Keeper of the 
 Purse, Financial Agent, and General Busi 
 ness Manager of the family at Glen Ellen. 
 
4 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 No sooner was he taken away, than every 
 investment that had ever been valuable 
 stopped paying dividends with lightning 
 rapidity, while large assessments were levied 
 on stocks and bonds that, if not profitable 
 in Mr. Moore s lifetime, had at least re 
 mained at par. The sheep on the great 
 ranch in the San Kamon mountains were 
 seized with disease, scale appeared on the 
 orange-trees, no purchaser could be found 
 for any property, far or near, and Mrs. 
 Moore might well have been pardoned if 
 she had considered herself a modern coun 
 terpart of Job. 
 
 Everything had been done of course to 
 lighten the household ship in this stress 
 of weather ; servants had been dismissed, 
 horses and carriages sold, Mary and Celia 
 had been cooks and housemaids for some 
 months, but still the situation grew more 
 hopeless. 
 
 One evening, when the last post had 
 brought a gloomy letter from the foreman 
 of the ranch, the tradesmen s monthly ac 
 counts, a notice that the taxes were due, 
 and a colossal bill from the Los Angeles 
 agent, Mary, with a determined look in her 
 girlish face, knocked at the Dutch door, 
 
IN THE DARK 5 
 
 cleft horizontally, that divided her own from 
 Celia s room. 
 
 " Come in ! " called a voice from the win 
 dow, and Mary, entering, candle in hand, 
 saw her cousin curled up in a great arm 
 chair, gazing with suspiciously wet eyes on 
 the moonlit garden. 
 
 "Dear old Celia ! " exclaimed Mary hur 
 riedly, setting down the candle and rushing 
 to take the pretty head on her shoulder ; 
 " what made you begin to cry till I came ? 
 I could have wept a flood of tears any time 
 this evening, but I did n t mean to let auntie 
 see I was down-hearted, and I counted on 
 mingling my griefs with yours as soon as 
 we came upstairs." 
 
 "Oh, Mollie," sobbed Celia, "how dis 
 couraging everything looks. What in the 
 world is to become of us ? " 
 
 " Just what I came in to ask you," said 
 Mary, half laughing ; " but really I ve been 
 thinking seriously for a week, dear, and I 
 see that something must be done, though 
 I m sure I don t know what. When the 
 bill came to-night from that Los Angeles 
 pirate, for he is one, if he does n t cruise 
 the high seas, I made up my mind it was 
 time for desperate remedies. We ve been 
 
6 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 pumping water out of this sinking ship long 
 enough, and the time has come to get her to 
 land somehow. In other words, aunt Ellen 
 has n t any money, there is no prospect of 
 her having any for ages, and you and I 
 must just set to work to earn some." 
 
 These words of wisdom, punctuated by 
 Mary with sympathizing kisses on the pale 
 cheek resting against her shoulder, were 
 heard by her cousin with some amazement. 
 
 " But Molliekin," she exclaimed, " what 
 do we know how to do? Of course I can 
 embroider and paint a little, but it would n t 
 take us long to starve on the prices you 
 can get for even the best fancy-work. I ve 
 learned how to cook pretty well, too, in the 
 last few months, but if I go out to service 
 what becomes of poor mother ? " 
 
 " You out to service ! " cried Mollie dis 
 dainfully. " A pretty cook you d make, 
 too pretty by far, for the matter of that. 
 But what I Ve been thinking of is this. I 
 met somebody in town this morning, I 
 forget now who it was, who told me Miss 
 Barton wanted another assistant for her 
 decorating. You know you ve helped her 
 with the flowers two or three times when 
 she was crowded with orders, and she has 
 
IN THE DARK 7 
 
 been enthusiastic ever since over your 4 fairy 
 fingers, as she calls them. I believe the 
 way to success is open for you there, dearie, 
 and Miss Barton would give a little salary 
 from the beginning, I m sure." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said her cousin half doubt 
 fully. " Anyway it s work I should thor 
 oughly enjoy, and it s just like your energy 
 to think first of bringing grist to the mill. 
 I m two years older than you and I ought 
 to have taken the initiative, but somehow 
 my mind won t hold a thought of anything 
 but mother now. I watch her patient face 
 hour by hour, and spend all my energies in 
 trying to make up to her part of what she 
 has lost, and when the day is over I don t 
 seem to have strength for original ideas. 
 But what do you propose for yourself, little 
 cousin ? " 
 
 " Well, various careers have suggested 
 themselves to me in the night watches," 
 answered Mary gravely. " I have thought 
 of being matron of an orphan asylum, but 
 there my comparative youth is against me. 
 ... I have thought of the stage, but I have 
 so little dramatic ability, ... and I can 
 scarcely be President of a Woman s Col 
 lege, as yet, anyway. ... I might get a 
 
8 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 position as stewardess on one of the coast 
 steamers, or I might even be a music teacher 
 for young fry, were there not already at 
 least a score of the unfortunates starving 
 in Corona and its suburbs." 
 
 "What is the decision then?" asked 
 Celia, who had lifted her head again, some 
 what diverted by her cousin s nonsense. 
 " What are you going to try ? " 
 
 "I really believe languages will be my 
 refuge. I could teach Spanish and French 
 to beginners fairly well. Professor Le- 
 maitre thinks I have a good accent in both, 
 you know, and Mrs. Gardiner said not long 
 ago she wished I d give the twins conversa 
 tion lessons in Spanish. I don t know. . . . 
 Neither of us seems very useful, considering 
 the amount of money spent on our educa 
 tion, but I m perfectly well and you can do 
 a good deal if you re careful, and it will be 
 a strange thing if we can t support this 
 small family between us." 
 
 " It does seem as if we might, and you re 
 a dear little comforter," agreed Celia ; " but 
 we 11 talk it all over with mother in the 
 morning. A spark of courage seems to 
 have warmed my breast since you came in 
 with your candle. But listen, there s the 
 
IN THE DARK 9 
 
 midnight bell. Who is to get breakfast if 
 we oversleep? Fly, Mollie, like an angel 
 as you are, and give that brain of yours a 
 little rest." 
 
 There were light footfalls in both rooms 
 for a few moments, a rustle of draperies, 
 the gentle closing of blinds and opening 
 of windows, and soon a white-robed figure, 
 with a wavy brown head atop, leaned over 
 the half-door, calling softly, - 
 
 " Good-night, ma mselle the art deco 
 rator ! " 
 
 " Good-night, Professor of Modern Lan 
 guages," returned Celia. " Bon soir ! Schlaf 
 wohl ! Dormi felice ! Duerme bien ! " 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 A LIGHT APPEARS. 
 
 IN spite of the midnight conference, the 
 young housekeepers were early astir, and by 
 nine o clock everything at the cottage was 
 in fairest order, and Mrs. Moore installed in 
 the rose-room with her books and her sew 
 ing. 
 
 Mary delegated to her cousin the office 
 of communicating to the head of the family 
 the important decision made the previous 
 night, and, basket in hand, set out for Co 
 rona with the double purpose of getting the 
 morning s mail, and of finding something 
 both cheap and toothsome for dinner. 
 
 As for the mail, it seldom held anything 
 nowadays save troubles and anxieties, with 
 perhaps an occasional letter from an amiable 
 relative, hoping that " dear Ellen was bet 
 ter," and that "their cloud of adversity 
 would soon show its silver lining." Still, 
 even troublesome letters have to be read, 
 and a walk to the Corona post-office twice a 
 
A LIGHT APPEARS 11 
 
 day was part of life s routine for the two 
 girls. 
 
 It was a late autumn morning, but sea 
 sons are so little noted in Southern Califor 
 nia that it might have been springtime, or 
 midsummer, or midwinter, for that matter, 
 save that the road was dusty and the wild 
 flowers not in bloom. Carnations and roses 
 and heliotropes and fuchsias were blossom 
 ing in every garden, the lawns were fresh 
 and green, and the only hint of the close of 
 the year lay in the size and color of the 
 ripening fruit on the boughs that shaded 
 the sidewalk. 
 
 Mary paid little heed to any of these 
 things, nor even to the morning bloom on 
 her beloved San Ramon mountains ; she 
 walked with a quick step, and her gaze was 
 turned inward, facing for the first time a 
 few of life s difficult problems. 
 
 She passed the Gardiner twins, but re 
 garded them with so cool and speculative an 
 eye, as if measuring their aptitude for con 
 jugating verbs, or something of that nature, 
 that the commonly irrepressible youngsters 
 hung back a little, and refrained from pre 
 cipitating themselves upon her as usual. 
 She crossed the road in front of the semi- 
 
12 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 nary, to gaze upon that august building and 
 wonder how she would look, in twenty years 
 or so, throned in Professor Lemaitre s chair, 
 with a pair of spectacles on her nose. 
 
 She visited the market as in a dream, 
 confused herself by saying Bon jour to the 
 butcher, and displayed much less than her 
 ordinary ability in doing the day s purvey 
 ing. Probably she visited the post-office 
 afterwards, but she did not recall having 
 done so, till on the homeward road, while 
 she was receiving the plaudits of Corona on 
 the success of a French comedy given by 
 her future pupils, she caught her foot in 
 a loose board of the sidewalk, stumbled, 
 dropped her basket, and saw a shower of 
 letters scattered on the ground. 
 
 As she picked them up, she noticed that 
 one was addressed to her in Miss Barbara s 
 handwriting, beloved Miss Barbara, who 
 had been her Spanish teacher, and who had 
 married and left Corona the year before. 
 No, she could n t wait until she got home, 
 she must open it now ; and she sauntered 
 along the sunny walk, dappled with the myr 
 iad leaf-shadows above, and read as she 
 walked. 
 
 The first page made her breath come 
 
A LIGHT APPEARS 13 
 
 more quickly ; at the second, her color rose 
 and her eyes dilated, and at the third, she 
 hurriedly sat down on the church steps with 
 an air as of one who might have dropped 
 in the road, had no support been forth 
 coming. She read the letter once, she read 
 it twice, and after the third reading grasped 
 her basket and skimmed along her home 
 ward way like a lapwing, or rather, like 
 that more ordinary bird, the road runner. 
 
 Yet as she gained the hedge of Osage 
 oranges that guarded Glen Ellen, she slack 
 ened her pace, for sudden shocks were dan 
 gerous to her aunt, walked soberly down 
 the garden path, hung up her hat, smoothed 
 her hair a little, and sought the rose-room. 
 Aunt Ellen was there, but her work had 
 dropped in her lap, and her eyes were fixed 
 upon the distant mountains as if seeking 
 there her help. She held out her hand for 
 the letters and papers, but heard as she did 
 so, Mary s slightly panting breath, and saw 
 the high color in her cheeks. 
 
 " What is the matter, child ? " she cried, 
 paling in an instant. " Has anything new 
 happened ? " 
 
 " No, no, dearest auntie," answered Mary 
 caressingly, "or at least only something 
 
14 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 good. I ve had rather a wonderful letter. 
 Where is Celia? I want to read it aloud." 
 
 " In the kitchen, I think. You were gone 
 rather longer than usual, and I believe she 
 is doing something for dinner." 
 
 " Celia, Celia," called Mary s fresh young 
 voice. " Come in here ! I want to read 
 you a letter." 
 
 " Coming," sounded from the rear of the 
 house, and in a moment the stately Celia 
 appeared, gowned in gingham and a sleeved 
 apron, and bearing a pan of potatoes she 
 was peeling. 
 
 She took a high-backed chair, with that 
 Windsor Castle air of hers, as Mary always 
 called it, and going on with her prosaic occu 
 pation much as if she had been a princess 
 at her embroidery frame, said composedly, 
 
 " Well, Mollie, here I am. What s the 
 news ? Do they want you to take a chair 
 at the State University ? " 
 
 " No, not yet," answered Mary modestly, 
 " but I ve had a remarkable letter from 
 Miss Barbara, and it seems more remark 
 able still, when you think of our conference 
 last night." 
 
 "Miss Barbara," said Mrs. Moore 
 vaguely ; " I thought she was married a year 
 ago and went to Mexico to live." 
 
A LIGHT APPEARS 15 
 
 " So she was, so she did," explained 
 Mary. " She is n t Miss Barbara now, of 
 course ; she s Mrs. Vazquez, but I never 
 can remember to call her so. No matter, 
 anyway. You know whom I mean. 
 Well, it s no use trying to break it to you 
 gently she wants me to come to Mexico, 
 to Ceritas, where she lives, and teach a pri 
 vate school, and at a good salary too ! " 
 
 " Mexico ! " cried princess Celia, drop 
 ping her knife. 
 
 " Mexico! " echoed her mother, fixing her 
 eyes on Mary, as if she rather doubted her 
 sanity. 
 
 "Yes, Mexico, dears. See the Mexican 
 stamp, and the address to Corona, Cali 
 fornia, E. U., that s for Estados Uni- 
 dos, you know. But let me read the letter ; 
 and Celia, if you stare at me any longer, 
 your eyes will come out on stalks like a 
 crab s." 
 
 "No wonder I stare," retorted Celia. 
 " The spectacle of a snip like you as the 
 head of a private school in Mexico would 
 make a mole stare." 
 
 " Well, snip or not," said Mary, who had 
 regained her composure, " she wants me, 
 anyway, and here is the letter." 
 
16 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 CERITAS, SONOKA, MEXICO, 
 
 September 7, 18 . 
 
 MY DEAREST MARY, Your sad little letter 
 of last June has followed us about in all our 
 summer wanderings, and, with its address almost 
 illegible from so much forwarding, is at last in my 
 hands. I knew of many of your family troubles 
 from other friends, and by the same mail as your 
 letter carne one from Professor Lemaitre, telling 
 me of the latest developments at Glen Ellen, and 
 saying that he was about to suggest language 
 teaching to you, and would do his best to find you 
 a few pupils. 
 
 " Good old thing," observed Mary, pa 
 renthetically ; " is n t he a pet ? " 
 
 You know, I am sure, how dear you are to me 
 and how I sympathize with your troubles, and 
 though it is nearly four months since I wrote 
 you, yet you have constantly been in my heart 
 and on my mind. If I were in Corona, I know 
 I could help you in many ways, but it may be, 
 strangely enough, that here my help will be even 
 more effectual. 
 
 A number of the well-to-do people of Ceritas 
 have long been anxious for a good private school 
 in the town, as the public one is very inferior, 
 and they have at last formed a company to take 
 charge of the enterprise, and have applied to my 
 husband to lind a teacher. They particularly 
 
A LIGHT APPEARS 17 
 
 want some one who speaks English, so that the 
 children may get a knowledge of that language 
 while studying the other branches, and since 
 receiving your letter and Professor Lemaitre s 
 I have convinced Mr. Vazquez that you are just 
 the person for the place, if Mrs. Moore will let 
 you come. 
 
 I know it s a great distance, though Sonora is 
 one of the border states, but Mr. Vazquez s busi 
 ness is quite certain to keep him in Ceritas a 
 year longer, and you would come direct to us. 
 
 "What is his business?" interrupted 
 Mrs. Moore. 
 
 " I think he s a mining engineer," an 
 swered Celia. " Mr. Gardiner knows him, 
 and, oddly enough, they were speaking of 
 him yesterday. But go on with the letter, 
 Mollie." 
 
 The salary would be fifty dollars a month 
 (continued Mary), and there would be no living 
 expenses so long as we are here. Of course you 
 are very young, still a little girl in many ways, 
 and have had no experience in teaching, but 
 your knowledge of Spanish is unusually good, 
 and I m sure you have enough energy and 
 determination to succeed in the management of 
 the school, with my advice and assistance. 
 
 You may assure your *aunt that we will take 
 
18 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 every care of you ; the climate of Sonora is beau 
 tiful and the life interesting, and I know that the 
 whole experience would benefit you greatly. 
 
 Of course there will be many hardships about 
 the journey, the daily living, and the teaching in 
 a foreign language, but in spite of all these things 
 I advise you to come, unless, indeed, some more 
 lucrative position has offered itself in California. 
 
 Mr. Vazquez incloses a note with particulars 
 concerning the journey. Talk the project all 
 over with your people, but we must have your 
 answer as soon as possible, for the school should 
 begin by the first of December, at latest. 
 
 With kindest regards to your aunt and cousin 
 and dearest love to yourself, 
 
 Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 BARBARA F. DE VAZQUEZ. 
 
 " It s a sweet letter," said Celia reflec 
 tively, " but it does seem like a mad project 
 for Mollie, mother." 
 
 " Mad, indeed ! " Mrs. Moore exclaimed, 
 stretching out her arms to Mary. " Come 
 here to me, kitten, and tell me what you 
 think of it." 
 
 Mary, with knitted brow and the open 
 letter in her hand, crossed the room and 
 sank on a stool at her aunt s knee. 
 
 "Auntie," she said, "we ll think it all 
 
A LIGHT APPEARS 19 
 
 over carefully, but I m afraid it s a lead 
 ing, as aunt Easter used to say. It s a 
 good salary, and with no expenses I could 
 send it all home. There s very little open 
 ing in Corona for me, for I haven t any 
 fashionable specialty like Celia, and per 
 haps uncle Bertram s insisting on my tak 
 ing Spanish, when I began at the seminary, 
 is another finger of Fate. Mr. Vazquez 
 says in his note his name s Emilio, by 
 the way, and does n t it sound odd ? that 
 there would be about twenty-five children. 
 I feel now that my place is among that 
 4 dusky brood. I know I shall have to 
 go!" 
 
 " Why shouldn t / go? " cried Celia ex 
 citedly, dropping a potato in her agitation. 
 " I m older than you, and it would be more 
 appropriate." 
 
 " Well, in the first place you don t know 
 a word of Spanish except, 4 Please pick up 
 my whip, and 4 May I trouble you for a 
 glass of water ? In the second place Miss 
 Barbara does n t ask you, and in the third 
 place I should prove that I was hatched 
 from a veritable cuckoo s egg if I pushed 
 you out of your rightful nest and stayed in 
 it, warm and comfortable myself." 
 
20 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Here Mary s cheeks grew deeper crimson, 
 and her voice gave so suspicious a tremble 
 that Mrs. Moore said hastily, " Go and 
 begin dinner, Celia, dear. Mary and I will 
 have a little quiet talk now, and there 11 be 
 plenty of time for you girls to counsel to 
 gether this afternoon while I m resting." 
 
 Celia rose, wafting a finger kiss to her 
 cousin, and as the door closed behind her, 
 Mrs. Moore took Mary s hands in hers, and 
 said gently : 
 
 " Whatever the decision we reach about 
 Mexico, dear child, there must never be any 
 question of this home-nest being less your 
 place than Celia s. I would have shared all 
 I possessed on earth with your mother, and 
 for her sake, as well as for your own, you 
 are so dear that I know no difference be 
 tween my two daughters. If it should seem 
 best for you to leave us now, it would be be 
 cause the opening appears suited to you and 
 not to Celia, and we will hope, if you go, 
 that things will brighten so that you need 
 not be long absent." 
 
 " Dear aunt Ellen, I want to go for your 
 sake most of all. I cannot bear to see you 
 so troubled and do nothing to help you. 
 No girl ever had a lovelier home than I, 
 
A LIGHT APPEARS 21 
 
 nor dearer people to take care of her, and 
 I want to be like the youngest son in the 
 fairy tales, I want to go out into the world, 
 to seek my fortune, so that I can bring back 
 every bit of it to you and Celia. But how 
 I am ever going to leave you "... 
 
 Here there was a sob and a sudden break 
 in the swift-coming words, and Mary buried 
 her face in her aunt s lap. 
 
 Silence settled down upon the room, and 
 quite half an hour afterwards, Celia, com 
 ing to announce dinner, found Mary in the 
 same attitude, and Mrs. Moore bending 
 above the bowed head with an anxious ten 
 derness like that of a mother-bird dreading 
 the first flight of her nestling. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 "ONE TO MAKE READY, AND TWO TO PRE 
 PARE." 
 
 THE new project, as Mary s prophetic 
 soul had warned her, grew to be considered 
 by every one as indeed one of aunt Easter s 
 " leadings/ 
 
 Cheerful relatives wrote at once; congrat 
 ulating " dear Mary on this delightful op 
 portunity for visiting foreign lands," and 
 adjuring " dear Ellen " not to repine at los 
 ing her, but rather to be thankful for all her 
 mercies and for this one in particular. To 
 Mrs. Moore, it must be confessed, the spe 
 cial mercy in question shone with a dubious 
 radiance, like unto the moon on a cloudy 
 night, and yet it was so much better than 
 no light at all, that one must perforce be a 
 little thankful for it. 
 
 As there was really no good reason to op 
 pose Mary s going, and no one who knew 
 anything of the possible hardships and dan 
 gers of the trip ; as subsequent letters from 
 
"ONE TO MAKE READY" 23 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Vazquez were even more en 
 couraging, and the Los Angeles " pirate " 
 bestirred himself sufficiently (at so much 
 the hour) to find a highly respectable escort, 
 the decision was soon readied, and the 
 youthful pioneer began to make her prepa 
 rations. These were of necessity very sim 
 ple, being largely confined to making over 
 two of her aunt s dresses, mending some old 
 ones, buying a pair of new shoes, covering 
 a hat-frame with silk and velvet from the 
 piece-bag, and blacking with Koyal Polish 
 a straw sailor for the journey. 
 
 Celia mourned over the scantiness of the 
 outfit, but as Mary was no needlewoman, 
 she herself already at work with Miss Bar 
 ton part of the day, and her mother over 
 taxed with household duties, there were few 
 hands, even had there been any money, to 
 adorn the victim for the sacrifice. Yet 
 Mary was perfectly content, insisting that 
 she always liked made-over things better 
 than new ones, that the mere presence of 
 three dozen shoe-buttons in her trunk made 
 her feel like one of the Kothschilds, and 
 that her toilets were most satisfactory in 
 view of the fact that all the company she 
 was likely to see in Ceritas was the school- 
 
24 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 children and members of the adjacent tribes 
 of Indians. 
 
 Sanguine neighbors predicted that she 
 would promptly wed a Mexican mine-owner 
 or capitalist, and come home with rings on 
 her fingers and bells on her toes, but Mary 
 listened to these vaporings with ill-concealed 
 scorn. As the time drew near for leaving, 
 however, she developed a haunting fear that 
 Celia would desert, in her absence, an Old 
 Maids Sisterhood they had both joined that 
 summer, and she unreasonably fixed upon an 
 elderly gentleman who sometimes came to 
 play duets with the princess, as the chief 
 object of her apprehensions. 
 
 " Why, Molliekin, you re perfectly ab 
 surd," exclaimed Celia, as they sat together 
 in the great armchair one evening. " Mr. 
 Pollock is old enough to be my grandfather, 
 and he never has taken anything but a musi 
 cal interest in me. Why you should think 
 I am going to be plucked from the bough as 
 soon as you leave is more than I can ima 
 gine, for there isn t a young man within 
 leagues of the Glen, as far as I know, and 
 if there were, what time should I have for 
 him with the flower work, and the house, and 
 mother? Go to ! and don t be silly. I 11 swear 
 
"ONE TO MAKE READY" 25 
 
 another oath of allegiance to the Sisterhood, 
 if you like, and I 11 paint you a picture of 
 the Old Maids Hall of the future, that you 
 can take to Ceritas." 
 
 " Oh, joy ! " cried Mary ; "I ve always 
 wanted one, and it will be such a comfort. 
 I 11 hang it in my room and gaze upon it 
 whenever I feel apprehensive. I wouldn t 
 brood over the subject if you were n t so 
 lovely, but I know you re just the kind of 
 honey that attracts the bees." 
 
 " Would t were true ! " sighed Celia, 
 blushing a little. " I assure you I would n t 
 mind some concrete evidence of the fact, 
 but don t worry, dear, you re perfectly safe. 
 When you come home with a fortune five 
 years hence, your maiden cousin will be the 
 first to welcome you, and she 11 promise to 
 sit by your fireside and live at your expense 
 forever after." 
 
 There were many serious as well as gay 
 conversations between the two girls, in the 
 great armchair now, and long, quiet talks 
 with the house-mother, when treasures of 
 spiritual wisdom and tenderness were opened 
 to Mary s eager, seeking heart ; while night 
 and day, Sandalphon, the angel of prayer, 
 gathered up the cloud of petitions, each for 
 
26 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 all and all for each, that rose from the little 
 cottage. 
 
 It was not that Mary s journey and her 
 life in Mexico were likely to be at all dan 
 gerous, but the three women had clung more 
 closely to one another since uncle Bertram s 
 death ; this was the first separation since that 
 sad time, and Mrs. Moore was always so 
 frail that the unspoken question, " Shall I 
 ever see her again?" trembled every hour 
 of the day behind Mary s close-shut lips. 
 
 The last afternoon came, and Mr. Gardi 
 ner arrived as the traveler s escort to Los 
 Angeles, having volunteered to accompany 
 her there and deliver his charge in safety 
 that evening to Judge Mason of the Arizona 
 Supreme Court, who was to take charge of 
 her as far as Tontin. 
 
 Mary had expressed the intention of ar 
 ranging her conversation to suit the eminent 
 jurist who had kindly consented to take 
 her under his wing, and had planned to 
 tuck into her bag at the last moment two 
 stray legal volumes, " Bump on Fraudulent 
 Conveyances" and "Chitty on Pleading," 
 which had somehow drifted into Mr. Moore s 
 library. 
 
 But none of these things were remembered 
 
"ONE TO MAKE READY" 27 
 
 when the final wrench of parting came, and 
 Celia stood by bathed in tears, while Mary, 
 her courage at last completely swept from 
 under her, clung to her aunt s neck with 
 the tense grasp of a drowning man. 
 
 She had not the physical strength, it 
 seemed to her, to loose her hold ; every firm 
 resolve drifted away in the waves of agony 
 closing over her head, and Mr. Gardiner, to 
 cut short the already prolonged suffering, 
 at last unclasped her hands, took her in his 
 arms, and carried her bodily to the car 
 riage. 
 
 The journey to Los Angeles was hardly 
 more agreeable to this good Samaritan than 
 to Mary herself, but as she neared the city, 
 she somewhat regained her balance, and so 
 bravely made all her good resolutions over 
 again that when she was introduced that 
 evening to her traveling companion, she 
 was perfectly composed and presentable. 
 
 Judge Mason proved to be all that was 
 correct in point of age and grizzled hairs, 
 and disposed to be warm and friendly to 
 his pale, heavy-eyed little charge. 
 
 He helped her on the train, assuring her 
 that her berth was already made up, that 
 they would be at Yuma next morning be- 
 
28 UNDER THP: CACTUS FLAG 
 
 fore she had her sleep out, and that the 
 journey to Tontin was a mere trifle, one 
 that invalids often took for health s sake. 
 
 Mary waved her hand to Mr. Gardiner, 
 the train started, stopped, and started again 
 with decision, the engine gave a prolonged 
 howl of despair at leaving lovely California, 
 and the youthful traveler realized, amid the 
 rumble of wheels, the rattle of machinery, 
 and the steady jolt of the cars, that her jour 
 ney into the world had begun in earnest. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ON THE FRONTIER. 
 
 IN the first long letter that Mary sent 
 home after reaching Ceritas, she wrote that 
 the journey, like all Gaul, was divided into 
 three parts ; that the first was attended with 
 mental distress, in the second, physical an 
 guish was predominant, while to the last 
 spiritual apprehension was added. 
 
 This sketch of the trip, though put in 
 humorous fashion, was fairly descriptive of 
 what it must have seemed to a young and 
 tenderly nurtured girl. A strong man, ac 
 customed to rough living, would doubtless 
 have regarded it lightly enough; and in 
 truth it could not be considered perilous, 
 for Mary, though cold, was never frost 
 bitten, though hungry, came nowhere near 
 starvation and, though somewhat dazed for 
 want of sleep, managed to retain her spirits 
 and her courage. 
 
 The first night, spent in regal elegance 
 upon a sleeping-car, was indeed a " white 
 
30 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 night," both within and without, for the 
 land was flooded with moonlight, and the 
 girl lay for hours propped upon her pillows, 
 the curtains of her berth pinned back, gaz 
 ing out on the fast-flying panorama of dusky 
 brushwood, of silvered desert, and sudden- 
 rising mountain peak. 
 
 The rhythmic tremble of the cars soon 
 set itself to music in her brain, and to the 
 strains she began to dream dreams, and to 
 see sweet visions of the future. These mo 
 ments of exaltation alternated with periods 
 of depression when the fierce ache in her 
 throat threatened to burst out into sobs, and 
 homesick tears stole from her tired eyes. 
 She was alone, and had no one to consider, 
 so she enjoyed what is sometimes a profound 
 luxury, that of giving full sway to pent-up 
 grief; but Mother Nature had no mind to 
 allow an unlimited expenditure of this ner 
 vous force, and when the cuckoo in the hall 
 at distant Glen Ellen had caroled three 
 times for the coming day, Mary was wrapped 
 in the dreamless sleep of a tired child. 
 
 When at last the travelers crossed the 
 brown, swirling flood of the Colorado, the 
 morning was well advanced, and by that 
 time she had met the other members of 
 
ON THE FRONTIER 31 
 
 Judge Mason s party, and found, much to her 
 disappointment, not a woman amongst them. 
 
 One was a young physician going down 
 to settle in Tontin ; one a capitalist, seeking 
 mining investments, and, the last to be pre 
 sented, a delicate lad of perhaps eighteen 
 years, sent to Arizona to ward off consump 
 tive tendencies. They were all perfectly 
 courteous to Mary, but did not appear to 
 look upon her addition to the party as a 
 matter for exuberant gayety, each one seem 
 ing to cherish the inward conviction that she 
 would be a great deal of trouble, the brunt 
 of which was likely to fall on his own de 
 voted shoulders. 
 
 As they stepped from the cars at Yuma, 
 the judge exclaimed with apparent hearti 
 ness, " Again my feet press with gladness 
 the sacred soil of Arizona ! " but his words 
 were unheeded in the chorus of ejaculations 
 that followed the first view of the town and 
 its surroundings. Mary and Jack Martin 
 exchanged pathetic glances, drawn together 
 at once by the comradeship of youth, and 
 confided to each other afterwards that they 
 distinctly felt at the moment a series of 
 cold shivers run down their respective back 
 bones. 
 
32 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Is this lazy, muddy stream the wonder 
 ful Colorado?" cried the doctor. 
 
 " Are there any more towns in the Terri 
 tory like this?" asked the capitalist, with a 
 hasty backward glance at the car. 
 
 " You 11 see the time," replied the judge 
 grimly, "when you ll look back to Yuma 
 as the children of Israel did to Egypt. But 
 we must n t stand talking here when break 
 fast is in prospect. Come, child," turning 
 to Mary, " you must be almost famished. 
 Here is the coach, and we can view the 
 landscape as we go." 
 
 At this moment appeared to Mary s fas 
 cinated gaze the first specimen of the red 
 man of romance that she had ever seen. 
 The breezes played freely about his noble 
 legs, while a short jacket covered the upper 
 part of his figure. Like the maiden s in 
 the song, " loose were his jetty locks, in 
 wavy tresses flowing," but he appeared to 
 be in great haste, and vanished at a jog trot 
 around a turn in the embankment before he 
 could be examined to advantage. 
 
 " Those fellows are wonderful runners," 
 said the judge, gazing approvingly at the 
 swift pace. " We used to employ them as 
 messengers here in Arizona, and they could 
 
ON THE FRONTIER 33 
 
 travel fifteen miles an hour at that gait 
 without apparent fatigue. There was an old 
 Apache servant of mine, Bat-to-chee-sha (the 
 coyote), they called him, who " - But the 
 end of the story was never heard, for at that 
 moment the coach drew up at the " Grand 
 Hotel," a low yellow-washed adobe building, 
 whose piazza was dotted with lounging men. 
 
 With *>ne accord, these worthies shifted 
 their positions a trifle, and fixed their gaze 
 upon Mary with such intensity that she 
 nervously put her hand to her head, fearing 
 that she had lost her hat, or that her mop 
 of curly hair was coming down. Reassured 
 on these points she ascended the steps with 
 a suggestion of Celia s " Windsor Castle 
 air," and followed a servant to her room. 
 
 The apartment into which she was ush 
 ered boasted no window, but a plenitude of 
 doors, one of them, half of glass, set slightly 
 open into a side yard, through which the 
 sunlight streamed so bravely, and the air 
 blew so crystal-clear and bracing, that no 
 one save a confirmed pessimist could have 
 withstood their entreaty to be gay. 
 
 Mary perched on the bed a moment to 
 view her new domain, and as she was won 
 dering when the floor had been swept last, 
 
34 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 and to whom the clothes in the corner be 
 longed, a flannel-shirted individual walked 
 in from the yard without the formality of 
 knocking, surveyed her with some interest, 
 and strolled through the opposite door. 
 
 Breakfast was called at this moment, fol 
 lowed by a rush of feet down the hall like a 
 stampede at a fire, and Mary, separated 
 from the judge by several places, had no 
 opportunity at the moment to confide to him 
 this first experience of frontier manners. 
 
 As they were rising from the meal, the 
 doctor leaned over to say that they were all 
 going out to see the town, and she must put 
 on her hat at once and accompany them. 
 She hurried to her room, intending to make 
 herself a bit more presentable, and had 
 scarcely donned a dressing-sacque, when an 
 other man popped his head in at the glass 
 door, but withdrawing it at once, remarked 
 to some one outside that he guessed the 
 young lady was a-fixin herself. 
 
 Apparently repenting his cowardly re 
 treat, he at once returned, saying apologet 
 ically that he d like to come in and get his 
 boots if she did n t mind, he an his pard- 
 ner hevin been kind o usin that room to 
 dress in for some time back. 
 
ON THE FRONTIER 35 
 
 Its astounded occupant raised no ob 
 jection, but begged he would wait a few 
 moments until she had finished her toilet. 
 This was naturally hurried through, and 
 locking her traveling-bags she ran out and 
 almost into Judge Mason s arms, as he 
 stood waiting for her on the sidewalk. 
 
 " Dear sir," she panted, " I m really not 
 at all fussy, and I don t mean to be a bit 
 more trouble than I can help, but some 
 thing will have to be done about my room. 
 Why, it is n t a room at all it s a thor 
 oughfare, and there have been three men 
 in it already! " 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " cried the judge. 
 " Where can they have put you ? They re 
 not accustomed to young ladies down here, 
 and that lout of a boy probably showed you 
 in at the first open door. Never mind, we 11 
 take our walk now, and when we get back 
 I 11 find you a decent corner in the house, if 
 it s the bridal chamber. Have you brought 
 your money with you and locked your 
 bags? Yes? All right then. Come on, 
 Jack." (This to young Martin, who was 
 lingering in the rear.) " Here s a maiden 
 fair, awaiting your escort." 
 
 The lad joined them with a flush of plea- 
 
3G UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 sure on his hollow cheeks, and Mary, walk 
 ing by his side, felt many a sympathetic 
 pang, as she noted his gaunt figure, and 
 wondered how roughing it on the frontier 
 could be considered a specific for such evi 
 dent ills. 
 
 Although the second week in November 
 had already passed, yet the Arizona sun 
 still shone with considerable vigor, and the 
 glare from the white shadeless roads was 
 intense. To the judge s unconcealed satis 
 faction, all the travelers remarked on the 
 clearness of the atmosphere, and on the dry, 
 exhilarating air that seemed to tune the 
 nerves to concert pitch. Jack already felt 
 better, he said, and as he held Mary s para 
 sol, became very chatty and confidential, 
 telling her of his father and sisters, of his 
 first year at college (poor lad ! it was likely 
 to be his only one), of his dogs and horses, 
 and his achievements in athletic sports. 
 
 Mary, it may be supposed, was not a whit 
 behind in this dialogue, and when the ex 
 cursion was over, it was certainly no fault 
 of hers if Jack was not qualified to recog 
 nize aunt Ellen and Princess Celia in any 
 assembly, however crowded. 
 
 The little party was first conducted by 
 
ON THE FRONTIER 37 
 
 the judge up the hill to the penitentiary, 
 a massive building guarded by white cliffs 
 on the one side, and on the other, down a 
 precipice, by the Colorado River. The 
 keeper, who did the honors of the institu 
 tion, proved to be an affable person with 
 great conversational powers, and such full 
 and unsavory particulars were imparted by 
 him of the history of the prisoners, some 
 of the most desperate, hardened criminals 
 of the border, it appeared, that the younger 
 members of the company soon wandered 
 away. 
 
 The hill was covered with fragments of 
 rock of all sizes and, as the judge called 
 to them, by and by, that opals had several 
 times been found there, considerable grop 
 ing and fumbling began at once" among the 
 broken pieces. The exercise proved ex 
 hausting in that temperature, however, and 
 Mary and Jack contented themselves with 
 some agates which would serve as memen 
 toes of the journey. 
 
 " If you came here in summer," said the 
 judge as they left the penitentiary, " you d 
 be likely to find these gates wide open, and 
 most of the prisoners working in and about 
 the yard with a very small guard. They 
 
38 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 don t need one, Heaven knows ; the awful 
 deserts that stretcli away from here for one 
 hundred and fifty miles in three directions, 
 and the cactus and the rattlesnakes on that 
 sandy waste across the river, are all the 
 guards that are required. In fourteen years 
 only one man has escaped, and he was a 
 poor half-breed who by the time he got 
 down into Mexico was a raving maniac 
 from hunger and thirst. There are too 
 many stories current of horrible suffering 
 out among the cactus and the sand-hills in 
 Arizona for a convict even to think of es 
 cape." 
 
 " It s a horrible, forbidding place any 
 way," said the doctor. " One of the guards 
 told me that no one knows what these poor 
 fellows suffer in summer. Fancy being 
 locked for ten hours every night in a stone 
 cell four by eight feet, with a temperature 
 of 105 to 107 ! I tell you, Arizona is one 
 spot, at least, where the wicked do not flour 
 ish like a green bay-tree." 
 
 " It s dreadful to think of," said Mary 
 with a distressed sigh ; " it was uncomfort 
 ably hot up there even to-day." 
 
 " Here are some brethren that don t com 
 plain of the heat much," said the judge, 
 
ON THE FRONTIER 39 
 
 and up the hill came a company of In 
 dians, taking the air together, the squaws 
 with their roughly painted faces and gaudy 
 red blankets carrying round-eyed papooses 
 strapped to their backs. The braves stalked 
 along beside them, in unincumbered dig 
 nity, attired in their short jackets and red 
 flannel loin-cloths, their shining coppery legs 
 sometimes dappled, like a leopard s, with 
 white painted spots. Neither the masculine 
 nor the feminine costume seemed appro 
 priate to the climate, the one being as much 
 too warm as the other appeared too cool, 
 and the appearance of the whole group was 
 so startlingly like the pictures in a story 
 book that Jack said he almost expected to 
 hear the accompanying war-whoops and the 
 whiz of the tomahawks. 
 
 As they neared the river bank another 
 novel figure met their gaze, for down the 
 tumbling waters, on a raft of logs which he 
 managed with a long pole, came a really 
 splendid savage. He was naked, save for 
 the heavy, tossing locks of his black hair 
 and his red sash that floated out behind him 
 like a banner. Tall, brown, muscular and 
 sinewy, balancing himself and guiding his 
 rebellious craft down the swift current with 
 
40 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 perfect skill and grace, he was so fine a 
 specimen of athletic manhood that the party 
 watched him with delight until he disap 
 peared, Jack greeting his exit from the 
 scene with a toss of his cap and as good a 
 sample of his college yell as his weak lungs 
 permitted. 
 
 Arrived at the hotel Judge Mason sought 
 better accommodations for Mary, and finally 
 installed her, as he had suggested, in the 
 bridal chamber. This was adorned with a 
 carpet and a red plush sofa, and was lav 
 ishly provided with doors and French win 
 dows, though fortunately all had bolts so 
 large as to give some feeling of security. 
 It was subsequently found that the apart 
 ment was the only drawing-room of the 
 hotel, and Mary shared it during the after 
 noon with a considerable variety of single 
 persons and stray couples, varying in num 
 ber from two to eight at a time. 
 
 This afforded an unexampled opportunity 
 to study the dress, manners, and language 
 of the frontier, but Mary, as she wrote her 
 first home letters in this mixed assemblage, 
 thought that social studies were not so much 
 to her taste, at the time, as a few quiet hours 
 of retirement would have been. 
 
ON THE FRONTIER 41 
 
 " Do you think they 11 go at bedtime ? " 
 she anxiously inquired of the judge, slip 
 ping out on the piazza. " I don t mind 
 so much now, but I can t say I fancy the 
 prospect of sitting up all night, particularly 
 with that one-eyed desperado on the sofa 
 glaring at me." 
 
 "What desperado?" asked the judge, 
 laughing. "Oh, you mean that fellow in 
 the felt hat ? Why, he s a rancher near 
 here, and as mild as milk. But- don t you 
 trouble your pretty head they 11 all go 
 out after supper ; if they don t they shall 
 be put out, and if you say so I 11 do it 
 now," rising from his chair with alacrity. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " cried Mary nervously, re 
 membering that she had heard frontiersmen 
 were very " handy " with their weapons when 
 offended. " No, indeed ; I m doing very 
 well now, if I can only hope to have my 
 room to myself for the night. There s no 
 thing like travel for enlarging the mind, 
 and I might as well have all the new expe 
 riences I can get. No, pray keep your seat, 
 Mr. Martin, thank you. I can t come out 
 now, I m busy writing." 
 
 The various occupants of the bridal cham 
 ber did indeed depart when the dusk began 
 
42 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 to fall, and Mary retired early, carefully 
 slipping all the bolts, barricading the long 
 windows with bureaus and tables, rolling 
 the washstand against one door, and build 
 ing a monument of chairs against the other. 
 This defense accomplished, she sought her 
 couch, and fell asleep at once in spite of the 
 fact that a score of men were talking on 
 the porch almost at her ear, and an Indian 
 circus procession, with rattling drums and 
 tooting horns, was parading the streets. 
 
 All was dark and still, however, when 
 hours afterward she w r as wakened from 
 sweetest dreams of home by the sound of 
 a pistol-shot apparently fired at her door. 
 
 She sat up in bed, her heart beating a 
 reveille against her side, but nothing fol 
 lowed save loud voices, quick movements, 
 and some confusion in the next room. In 
 a few moments there was a tap at her door, 
 and the judge called out reassuringly, 
 " Don t be frightened, Miss Annesley ; 
 there s nothing at all the matter. One of 
 the fellows in the next room is in rather 
 high spirits to-night and has been making a 
 target of his bureau. They Ve pitched him 
 out into the corral now, and taken away his 
 gun. You re all right. Good-night." 
 
ON THE FRONTIER 43 
 
 " All right indeed ! " thought Mary, as 
 she sank back on her pillows. " Well, per 
 haps I am; but, shades of my ancestors! 
 what would they think of this at Glen 
 Ellen?" 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE. 
 
 " STRANGE all this difference should be 
 Twixt tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee," 
 
 quoted Dr. Culver next morning, as the 
 little canvas-covered Tontin stage jolted up 
 to the hotel steps ; " compare this trap with 
 the stagecoach of romance, the stagecoach of 
 adventure, the gallant vehicle, with its pran 
 cing steeds, that Dick Turpin stopped, and 
 Beau Brocade rifled." 
 
 " This kind of an outfit s jest ez handy to 
 rob ez any other kind," remarked a satur 
 nine bystander, "and don t you forgit it 
 when you git out here on the desert a piece ! 
 The art o stage-robbin ain t one o the lost 
 arts in this country, anyhow." 
 
 " Our friend is reassuring," murmured 
 Jack Martin, helping Mary to her place. 
 " There s nothing like starting on a journey 
 with pleasant anticipations. But don t you 
 worry, Miss Annesley," as he took his seat 
 beside her ; " we ve all got revolvers, and 
 we 11 take care of you among us." 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 45 
 
 " Fiddlesticks with your revolvers ! " cried 
 the judge. "This stage hasn t been held 
 up for a year ; the road agents are all in the 
 penitentiary, and the Apaches are 011 their 
 reservations learning to knit and crochet. 
 If Miss Mary can live through a seventy- 
 two hours continuous ride, she can afford to 
 laugh at the thought of highway robbers." 
 
 " Particularly," said Mary gayly, " as all 
 her money is in the judge s pocket. But 
 dear me ! what a tight fit we are for this 
 vehicle ! I wonder if it 11 stretch as we go 
 on." 
 
 " Probably not, but my prophetic soul tells 
 me that we shall shrink," laughed Jack. 
 " Don t you want my rug behind you, Miss 
 Annesley, and could n t you use one of my 
 bags for a footstool ? " 
 
 "Keep your rugs for yourself, Jack," 
 said the judge. " I 11 make this lassie so 
 comfortable that she 11 think she s in her 
 own armchair at home." 
 
 This innocent speech, so kindly made, 
 flew to Mary s heart like an arrow. As by 
 a flash-light she saw the great armchair in 
 Celia s window, and her cousin and herself 
 curled up there in the soft dusk, for one of 
 their never ending talks. Her lip trein- 
 
46 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 bled, and she bent to arrange her shawl- 
 strap, to hide the tears that rushed to her 
 eyes. But no one noticed her momentary 
 distress, for the stage had started, and all 
 were occupied in efforts to arrange their 
 effects as best they might, and to make their 
 hard seats a trifle less uncomfortable. 
 
 Though only twenty-four hours had passed 
 since Mary had joined the party, yet the dis 
 inclination, at first so apparent, to receive 
 her amongst them had quite disappeared, 
 unless some traces of it still remained with 
 the capitalist, who was a reserved and silent 
 person. 
 
 But the little maid had already shown 
 herself so cheery, so plucky, as the judge 
 called it, so considerate and so resolved to 
 make the best of everything, that she posi 
 tively shed a light upon the stagecoach, and 
 the doctor vowed that he began to believe 
 the journey would prove, in Samanthy 
 Allen s parlance, a veritable "pleasure- 
 exertion." 
 
 Yet it is not to be supposed that she was 
 not, with all her efforts, an incumbrance in 
 some respects, and the cause of a little extra 
 trouble, but her companions proved them 
 selves to be really of a chivalrous spirit by 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 47 
 
 sharing all their traveling conveniences with 
 her, even, in spite of remonstrance, making 
 her use some things they really needed, and 
 bearing the consequent discomfort with he 
 roic spirit. If they found her in the way, 
 no one of them by word, or look, ever made 
 it known, while the judge hovered about her 
 like a hen with one chicken, and Jack was 
 another Raleigh in gallantry and devotion. 
 Truly, the little pilgrim had reason to be 
 thankful for the kindly hands stretched out 
 to aid her at the outset of her journey. She 
 might have fallen among very different com 
 panions, and had serious trials to endure in 
 addition to the fatigue, the heat and cold, 
 the loss of sleep, and aching bones which 
 would have been her portion in any case. 
 
 The stage had not traveled as far as Fili 
 buster, the dinner station, before Dr. Culver 
 had shown her his wife s miniature painted 
 on ivory and mounted in a marvelous vel 
 vet case, while the judge told her shortly 
 afterward all about his wonderful boy at 
 Harvard, closing by saying that it was his 
 intention to take her directly home with him 
 when they reached Tontin, to rest until she 
 heard from her friends at Ceritas. He 
 should telegraph Mrs. Mason to that effect 
 
48 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 when they were within a day of their desti 
 nation, and she need not protest, for he had 
 her fast in his clutches. 
 
 Mary had no thought of protesting, nor 
 indeed of anything save gratitude, and with 
 a heart warmed by all this friendliness, lis 
 tened subsequently with flattering attention 
 to Jack s account of a camping trip in the 
 Yosemite the previous summer. 
 
 The capitalist made no confidences, but he 
 eyed her in a kindly manner, and at dinner, 
 seeing that she did not bemoan the absence 
 of milk in her coffee, said that her wooden 
 stool was quite comfortable, and made no 
 objection to a two-pronged steel fork, he ob 
 served gravely that it must have been a 
 sensible woman that brought her up. 
 
 This tribute was accepted by Miss Annes- 
 ley with becoming modesty, and stored away 
 in her memory for her beloved aunt Ellen, 
 whose practical merits as a trainer of youth 
 it decidedly understated. 
 
 The clear-eyed, blazing Arizona sun had 
 not dropped out of sight that first evening 
 before, upon one of the travelers at least, the 
 strange charm of the desert had stolen. 
 The shimmering sky-line, the pale, sparkling 
 sand, the gray-green of the sage-brush, the 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 49 
 
 ash-colored masses of rock rising abruptly 
 from the dead level, and fluted and twisted 
 into pillars and domes and spires, the giant 
 cactus lifting beseeching arms high in air, 
 the sunset light on the distant peaks, pur 
 ple, mysterious, ineffable, all these were 
 so many strange details of this landscape, 
 half beautiful and half sinister. Here was 
 no ordinary, comfortable prettiness of spar 
 kling water, of verdure and flowers, but the 
 beauty of free air and illimitable space, of 
 pale, faint tints in growing things, of severe 
 outlines, cliffs painted in ashes of roses, and 
 blue, jewel-like depths of sky. 
 
 While the doctor inveighed against the 
 alkali dust, Jack complained of dazzled eyes, 
 and the capitalist growled at the general de 
 solation, Mary leaned against her canvas cur 
 tain and looked out, out, far out across the 
 miles of distance as vague, as uncertain, as 
 mysterious as the future she was journeying 
 to meet. 
 
 The judge, being an old traveler, filled 
 his rubber pillow with air, and placing it 
 in divers curious positions snatched occa 
 sional cat naps which he pronounced most 
 refreshing, though while taking them he 
 appeared to the rest of the company to be 
 
50 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 enduring great suffering. He wasted no 
 time on the scenery, which was not only 
 too familiar to be interesting, but too pain 
 fully associated in his mind with pioneer 
 experiences, with hunger, burning thirst, 
 blinding heat, and days of footsore travel. 
 
 At Sahuaro, the supper station, so called 
 from the many specimens of organ - pipe 
 cactus growing near, he drew Mary s atten 
 tion to a splendid giant, whose fluted trunk 
 rose thirty feet in air and whose great arms 
 spread out each side like a monster can 
 delabrum. 
 
 " Stop a minute, Jack," he cried as they 
 left the sahuaro, " and we 11 have some fire 
 works in honor of Miss Annesley, the Fair 
 Maid of the Desert." 
 
 There was a silvery cactus, or cholla, 
 growing near, its branches covered with in 
 numerable shining spines, and to this he 
 applied a lighted match. In a moment the 
 whole plant was in a blaze, and as it burned, 
 snaps, pops, and reports were heard like an 
 immense package of firecrackers all going 
 off at the same time. Mary beat a retreat, 
 laughingly declaring that she could not 
 bear the weight of her honors, and entered 
 the supper-room followed by miniature sal- 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 51 
 
 vos of artillery still discharging from the 
 cholla. 
 
 A strong family likeness existed among all 
 these hostelries on the desert, the only dif 
 ference lying in the rich fancy lavished upon 
 their names and the greater or less degree 
 of their dirt and bareness. They were al 
 ways built of adobe, or sun-dried brick, the 
 dining-rooms were floored and walled with 
 earth, the table was invariably two boards 
 stretching down the middle of the apart 
 ment, and was generally covered with oil 
 cloth, and the seats were long benches or 
 wooden stools. Women were seldom seen 
 at any of them, napkins were never pro 
 vided, and such artificial luxuries as dress 
 ing-rooms had not yet been thought of. 
 
 While the gentlemen strolled about and 
 smoked after the rough meals, Mary sought 
 some distant cactus, and hanging her travel 
 ing mirror to its thorns shook out her tum 
 bled gown, brushed her wavy locks, and 
 afterwards generally managed to find a tin 
 basin of water which she could set on a 
 bench by the door and use for completing 
 her toilet. The judge declared that the way 
 she kept up her fashionable appearance was 
 a positive marvel, but Mary could only 
 
52 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 groan in spirit as she wondered what Celia 
 would think of her swollen lips, cracked 
 with the alkali dust, of the wrinkles in her 
 skirt, the holes in her gloves, and the sad 
 condition of her poor old hat, whose coat of 
 Eoyal Polish was ill calculated for such a 
 journey. 
 
 The first night was a martyrdom of fa 
 tigue, of aching bones, of chilliness, for the 
 cold was sharp when the sun had set, of 
 sudden jolts, when the drowsy head came in 
 abrupt contact with the sides of the stage, 
 of slipping about on the hard seats, and 
 finally, when the horses stumbled, of a swift 
 collapse in a heap to the bottom of the 
 vehicle, from which humble position she was 
 extricated by the judge, who said she re 
 minded him of a pea in a hot skillet. 
 
 As she was recovering from this last mis 
 hap the darkness began to lift, and her 
 kindly guardian suggested in a low voice 
 that as they were about to change horses 
 she should climb up on the driver s seat, 
 and see an Arizona sunrise. 
 
 The prospect of change was welcome, and 
 Mary, so numb with fatigue that she could 
 hardly keep her feet, made her way over 
 her sleeping companions, and was assisted 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 53 
 
 by the weather-beaten driver to a place by 
 his side. Her companionship was evidently 
 hailed with delight ; she was tucked under 
 blankets and wolf-skins, and comforted by 
 the new position, by the rush of free air 
 and the brightening daylight, she returned 
 to her own cheery, sensible self, remember 
 ing with the Psalmist that weeping indeed 
 may endure for a night, but joy cometh in 
 the morning. 
 
 "This yer first trip over the desert?" 
 asked her companion, looking with some 
 curiosity at the blue eyes, round cheek, and 
 dimpled chin beside him. 
 
 " It s my first trip anywhere. I m 
 what was it Judge Mason called it? Oh, 
 yes, I m a tenderfoot. 
 
 " Wai, I guess you be sure enough, but 
 you re a rustler too, I bet, or you would n t 
 be takin this trip. Goin to yer folks in 
 Tontin ? " 
 
 " No, I m going to Mexico. Oh, look, 
 the sun s just rising! See how pink it is 
 over there. Oh, how beautiful, how beauti 
 ful ! " cried Mary, clasping her hands in her 
 fervor. 
 
 " T is a handsome sight," agreed the 
 driver, " though there ain t many ter see it. 
 
54 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 It s kind o lonesome an deserted on this 
 road, yer see, tarnation cold in winter, hot 
 in summer, an dry an dusty all the year. 
 There s times when I d give all the sunrises 
 an sunsets that ever was for a night in bed 
 like a Christian." 
 
 Probably Mary would have sympathized 
 with the very natural feeling if she had 
 heard its expression, but she was deaf and 
 blind to everything but the glory of the 
 coming day. They were descending from a 
 high plateau to a valley set round about 
 with mountain peaks which the sun was 
 painting now with his own precious gold. 
 The road unrolled below them like a silver 
 ribbon, half lost in shadow at the other side 
 of the valley, the sky was flushed with a 
 tender rose, and on the hard dry ground the 
 feet of the horses clattered a merry greeting 
 to the morning freshness and the return of 
 the "sun and comforter." Not until he 
 leaped dazzling above the horizon and be 
 came his ordinary self again did Mary think 
 of conversation, and find out suddenly, as 
 she confided to the driver, that she was as 
 hungry as a Siberian wolf. There was only 
 an hour to breakfast, he said, and this in 
 terval was employed in learning which were 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 55 
 
 the "off" horses and which the "nigh" 
 ones, in hearing an account of a stirring 
 fight when the stage was "held up" the 
 previous year, and finally, to her delight, in 
 finding out that the driver had worked on a 
 ranch in the San Ramon Mountains a few 
 years before, and had often seen her uncle 
 Bertram. 
 
 At Brandy City, Jack, very pale and 
 haggard, poor fellow, helped her down from 
 her perch, and the doctor, unrolling himself 
 from his rugs, gallantly observed that she 
 looked like the rosy-fingered Dawn, which 
 remark was really no more poetic than it 
 was true, for Mary was gloveless and her 
 hands considerably reddened by cold and 
 exposure. 
 
 Breakfast proved a welcome tonic, and 
 the spirits of the party were so much re 
 freshed that they improvised a "comb or 
 chestra" during the morning, and buzzed 
 gayly along for many miles. The driver, 
 openly interested, thrust his head in at the 
 stage door to ask the judge what kind of an 
 outfit he had in there ("outfit" being an 
 Arizona term covering everything from a 
 baby to a threshing-machine), and opined 
 subsequently that comb-music was a blamed 
 sight better n none. 
 
56 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Dinner at Hang Town was as forbidding 
 as its name, proving to be one of those 
 meals in which, as Sydney Smith once said, 
 everything is sour but the vinegar and every 
 thing cold but the water. As there is com 
 monly an intimate connection between nour 
 ishment and cheerfulness, the spirits of the 
 party waned perceptibly during the after 
 noon. Mary s merry tongue was silent, and 
 a violent attack of homesickness took pos 
 session of her. Jack was very quiet also, 
 and regarded her with wistful sympathy, 
 exerting himself, after a time, to improvise 
 an ingenious contrivance from a shawl and 
 an umbrella to keep the sun out of her eyes. 
 
 When this was in place, he leaned back 
 in his seat, looking so white and weary that 
 Mary inwardly reproached herself for self 
 ishly giving way to her feelings, and re 
 solved to turn over a new leaf at once. 
 
 At the supper station, where they changed 
 horses, a slight ripple of excitement was ob 
 servable, and upon inquiry it proved that a 
 gentleman of hasty temper had just shot a 
 friend there in the heat of argument. This 
 news in itself was rather discouraging to 
 appetite, and Mary, after one hasty glance 
 at the floor, the table, and the man who was 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 57 
 
 bringing in the dishes, slipped quietly from 
 the room and fled behind the hut, where 
 she sank on the sun-baked ground, and, 
 overpowered with fatigue, loss of sleep, and 
 nervousness, forgot all about that new leaf 
 and wept a good many bitter tears. 
 
 When the shower was well over, however, 
 she dried her eyes, adjusted her dress, and 
 strolling toward the stage with the manner 
 of one without a care, suddenly came upon 
 poor Jack Martin, whom she had entirely 
 forgotten, reclining on the chopping-block, 
 eyes closed and head thrown back on the 
 wood-pile. 
 
 " Why, you selfish little wretch," cried 
 Mary to herself, " you that are well, to 
 go off and cry and leave that poor boy to 
 suffer alone ! I m ashamed of you." 
 
 " Mr. Martin," she called, hurrying to his 
 side ; "are you feeling ill ? can t I do some 
 thing for you? " 
 
 " Not ill, just a bit faint," said the 
 lad in gasps. 
 
 Miss Annesley, even at this early age, 
 was nothing if she was not prompt and de 
 cided, and before five minutes had passed 
 she had dragged Dr. Culver from his sup 
 per, learning that nothing serious was the 
 
58 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 matter, only over-fatigue and probably want 
 of nourishment, had applied to the capitalist 
 for crackers, of which she knew he had a 
 store, had ordered fresh tea to be made, 
 with so peremptory an air that it came as if 
 by magic, and armed with a can of deviled 
 ham which mysteriously appeared, she sat 
 on the other side of the chopping-block and 
 fed her patient with a truly motherly air. 
 
 Her remedies proving wonderfully effec 
 tive, she prescribed some of the same for 
 herself, and when at dusk they were all 
 in the stage again, and Judge Mason had 
 propped her with pillows and swathed her 
 in rugs, she did, yes, she cer tain ly 
 did feel a lit tie bit slee , . . . 
 and she knew no more till midnight. 
 
 The next morning they whiled away with 
 Twenty Questions, guessing successively the 
 " Breeches Bible," George Washington s 
 cocked hat, the portrait of Anne of Cleves 
 sent to Henry the Eighth, the left eyebrow 
 of the Venus of Milo, and the tail of the 
 dog of the child of the wife of the Wild 
 Man of Borneo. 
 
 In the afternoon they rolled by a series of 
 Indian villages with their low mud huts, the 
 squaws carrying baskets to and fro on their 
 
AN ARIZONA STAGE RIDE 59 
 
 heads, naked, brown-skinned babies tum 
 bling on the ground, and young girls, with 
 brilliantly painted faces and fringes of black 
 hair covering their eyebrows, staring under 
 curved palms at the loaded stage. 
 
 There was another night of clattering 
 hoofs, of rumbling wheels, of snapping 
 whip and drivers calls, of jolt and jar, of 
 slip and bruise, of numbness and cold, of 
 restless naps and sudden wakings, of a gen 
 eral atmosphere of nightmare and unreality, 
 and they rolled at last into the dusty streets 
 of Tontin, and their journey was over. 
 
 So completely exhausted was Mary by 
 long travel and want of sleep, so weary and 
 aching in every bone, that she could scarcely 
 have told you afterwards whether she bade 
 adieu to her companions on leaving the 
 stage, whether she walked or drove to the 
 judge s door, whether or not he carried her 
 up the steps, and whether she gave the greet 
 ing that propriety demanded to lovely Mrs. 
 Mason, who came hurrying to meet them. 
 
 There certainly was a sweet womanly 
 somebody, who called the judge her dearest 
 Kufus, who welcomed Mary warmly, sug 
 gested bath and sleep at once, conducted 
 her to a fresh, quiet room with a bed like a 
 
60 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 drift of white roses, lowered the shades, and 
 bade her sleep till night if she could. 
 
 Mary accepted all these kind offices as in 
 a dream, made ready for bed, half stupefied 
 with drowsiness, and only had time to give 
 one swift thought to Glen Ellen, say one 
 brief word of thanksgiving for the first 
 stage of her journey completed, when sleep 
 descended upon her suddenly, heavily, as an 
 eagle swoops down from the sky. 
 
 Not the shadow of a dream troubled those 
 slumbers, and Mrs. Mason, peeping in at 
 the door when the vesper bells were ringing, 
 saw the little maid just awakened, leaning 
 back upon her pillows, and looking about 
 her with bewildered gaze as if saying, like 
 the old woman in the rhyme : - 
 
 " Lawks a massy on me, 
 Can this be I ? " 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A BREATHING SPACE. 
 
 "THE Seven Sleepers," remarked the 
 judge next morning at breakfast, "Maxi- 
 mian, Malchus, Martinian, Dionysius, John, 
 Serapion, and Constantine, went to bed in 
 250 A. D. and slept sweetly till the year 479. 
 I mention this merely as a matter of general 
 interest, ladies, and not of course because it 
 has any personal application." 
 
 " Nonsense, Rufus," cried his wife, laugh 
 ing. " Miss Annesley sha n t be likened to 
 Serapchus or Maltiminian or any of those 
 unpronounceables. She slept most of yes 
 terday and all last night because she was 
 tired out and her conscience was good, and 
 see the effect in her color this morning." 
 
 " Oh, don t say Miss Annesley," pleaded 
 the girl. " I feel as if no one had called me 
 Mary for years. Please do, you and the 
 judge, while I m here." 
 
 " Call me Daphne, call me Chloris, 
 Call me Lalage or Doris, 
 Only, only call me thine ! " 
 
62 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 quoted the judge with passionate emphasis, 
 helping his guest to steak. 
 
 " Don t mind him, Mary," patting the 
 girl s hand. " He evidently rose early to 
 read Bartlett s Familiar Quotations, and 
 he s such a frontiersman now that he would 
 probably have called you Mary to-day and 
 Polly to-morrow, without any encourage 
 ment." 
 
 " I m perfectly willing to call her mine 
 any day," said the judge. " I wish she 
 belonged to us and we d have her bright 
 eyes to light the house while the boy is 
 away. Wouldn t he enjoy her, eh, wife? 
 
 " And by the way, my dear," turning to 
 Mary, " not only Dr. Culver and Jack 
 Martin, but those other gallant fellows, all 
 four of them, called especially to see you 
 last night." 
 
 "To see me?" in blank amazement. 
 " Why, what for, and how did they know I 
 was here ? " 
 
 "You don t know yet what a rarity a 
 young lady is in these parts," said Mrs. 
 Mason. " There s not an unmarried man 
 in the county, between the ages of eighteen 
 and forty, who won t know by to-morrow 
 night that there s a blue-eyed little girl 
 
A BREATHING SPACE 63 
 
 from California, staying at the judge s in 
 Tontin. But how do you like the house, 
 my dear? Don t you think we manage to 
 make ourselves comfortable on the desert ? " 
 
 Mary s appreciative eyes had already 
 noted the fine proportions of the room, the 
 deep window-seats, the soft carpet and cur 
 tains, and the dainty breakfast-table, and 
 had admired the night before the drawing- 
 room with its pictures and books, its harp 
 and piano. She said now, and said truly, 
 that she thought the house beautiful, as 
 far as she had visited it, and that it seemed 
 even more charming in contrast with the un 
 promising, flat-roofed buildings she had seen 
 from her window that morning. 
 
 " Take her out to see the town, this 
 morning, Mattie," said the judge as he rose 
 from the table, " and if you want the horses 
 in the afternoon, I 11 speak to Larry as I 
 go out. I cannot be at home before five 
 o clock, I fear," looking at his watch. 
 
 " Oh, please wait just a moment, sir," 
 said Mary timidly. " I don t want to 
 trouble you, but I feel as if I ought to 
 arrange to go to Ceritas at once. I pro 
 mised to be there the first of December, you 
 know, and " 
 
64 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 The judge took her hands in his. 
 
 "My dear child," he said, "you re not 
 going to Ceritas until your friends come for 
 you. You can write in a few days and tell 
 them you re here, but we want you to stay 
 with us and make a little visit first. If 
 you re so eager to begin teaching, you 
 can give young Martin Spanish lessons. I 
 promised his father I d keep him out of 
 mischief while he was here. Now don t 
 worry, little girl, and have a good time to 
 day. Good-by, sweet wife," and he closed 
 the door behind him. 
 
 "No indeed, Mary," added Mrs. Mason 
 eagerly, " you are not to say another word, 
 for now we know you we can t think of 
 letting you go for a month anyway. They 
 can t miss in Ceritas what they Ve never 
 had, and we are so lonely in my boy s ab 
 sence that it will be sweet to have a child in 
 the house again. Now can you amuse your 
 self for half an hour, while I do some house 
 keeping ? and then we 11 go out and see the 
 town." 
 
 It was after ten o clock when Mrs. Mason 
 called her guest, but the intervening time 
 had not all been spent in looking over the 
 books and trying the piano, for in Mary s 
 
A BREATHING SPACE 65 
 
 pocket as they went out, lay a sealed enve 
 lope neatly addressd to 
 
 SeTiora Dona 
 
 Barbara F. de Vazquez, 
 
 Ceritas, Sonora, 
 
 Mexico. 
 
 When the door was closed upon Judge 
 Mason s house, it differed in no respect, so 
 far as the front was concerned, from a dozen 
 others in the block. It was a long, low, 
 flat-roofed dwelling, of the packing-box 
 order of architecture, built of adobe bricks 
 which had been plastered and tinted a pale 
 yellow. 
 
 An adobe wall, fully eight feet high, 
 began at the corner of the house and encir 
 cled it at the rear, where from the broad 
 veranda, with its rugs and hammocks, could 
 be seen the stables, a diligently tended 
 grass-plot, and a few struggling trees. 
 
 Nothing of all this could be noted from 
 
 O 
 
 the street, and Mary remarked, as they 
 walked briskly along, lifting their skirts 
 from the white dust, that the houses were 
 as tantalizing as a row of books with unlet 
 tered backs. 
 
 They met a few elderly Mexican women, 
 their black shawls drawn tightly over their 
 
6G UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 heads and shoulders, a Jesuit priest in a 
 long, flapping cassock, reading his breviary 
 as he walked, and as they neared the busi 
 ness portion of the town, a tall, slender lad 
 hurried across the street to intercept them, 
 and breathlessly expressed his pleasure at 
 the meeting. 
 
 " Are you going to show Miss Annesley 
 the town, Mrs. Mason ? " he asked. " May 
 I come too ? Shall I be in the way ? " 
 
 " Not at all, Mr. Martin. We should be 
 delighted to have you, should we not, Mary ? 
 There, children, there s your first sight." 
 
 At this moment four mouse-gray, fuzzy, 
 white-nosed, long-eared, serious little don 
 keys came slowly up the street, driven by a 
 Mexican in snow-white shirt and trousers, 
 and broad felt hat. 
 
 Each patient little beast was loaded with 
 sticks of wood, piled in a mountain far 
 above his back, and fastened under his pack- 
 saddle with straps and strips of rawhide 
 stretched almost to the point of bursting. 
 
 44 They tell me there s a great art in put 
 ting on those loads so that they won t slip," 
 said Mrs. Mason. 44 Mr. Martin will prob 
 ably have a chance to try it, if the judge 
 takes him up to the 4 Last Chance. " 
 
A BREATHING SPACE 67 
 
 " There s a mule-team just come in with 
 supplies for the mine," said Jack, eagerly. 
 " I was going to see it unloaded when I met 
 you. Can t we go down now ? " 
 
 They traversed presently a block in which 
 were three drinking- saloons, a fourth being 
 across the way and a fifth within sight, 
 turned a corner, and in the middle of the 
 narrow street stood the mule-team : ten sleek, 
 handsome creatures, harnessed to a long 
 dray or cart, loaded with goods piled higher 
 than the roofs of the neighboring buildings. 
 
 Unloading had not yet begun, and would 
 evidently be a long and laborious process, 
 for there were countless bags, barrels, boxes, 
 and bundles, heaped one upon another like 
 the stones in a monument, the dizzy eleva 
 tion being crowned by a couple of trunks, 
 and the whole structure powdered with 
 dust so white as to suggest an Alaskan gla 
 cier. 
 
 To watch the taking down of such an edi 
 fice would apparently have been a half-day s 
 task, and Mrs. Mason carried the young 
 people off to see some of the shops, conduct 
 ing them through a labyrinth of streets as 
 like to the first ones as squares on a checker 
 board, and only to be distinguished from 
 
08 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 one another, as Jack said, by the fantastic 
 names of the numberless liquor saloons. 
 
 Mary thought she had never seen so many 
 dogs, and certainly never so many men, most 
 of them young and personable, and ready 
 with smiles and lifted hats when Mrs. Ma 
 son glanced their way. It was the young 
 lady s private opinion that they looked very 
 nice and friendly, but Jack said indignantly 
 that there must be mighty little business 
 going on in town, or those fellows would n t 
 have so much leisure to stand around and 
 gape ut ladies. 
 
 The Catholic church and Protestant chapel 
 were visited, and the grove of cottonwoods 
 by the little stream, where there was a dan 
 cing pavilion and the band played on sum 
 mer evenings ; and then, before returning to 
 luncheon, a call was made at the post-office. 
 Here oh, joy so great that the girlish heart 
 could hardly contain it were two fat letters 
 for Miss Mary Annesley, and the walk home 
 seemed leagues long with these unopened 
 treasures in hand. 
 
 There was a stately, bare-legged Indian 
 brave strolling ahead of them part of the 
 way, attired in the usual red loin-cloth, but 
 sporting a further adornment in the rim of 
 
A BREATHING SPACE G9 
 
 a silk hat which he wore jauntily on one 
 side of his head. Jack was overcome with 
 glee at this costume, and Mary, even in her 
 absorbed condition, gave it the tribute of a 
 merry laugh, which was heard again, in spite 
 of all her efforts, when, as they passed him, 
 he was found to have a hole in the cartilage 
 of his nose, through which a brilliant carna 
 tion was thrust. 
 
 Once in her room the letters were de 
 voured to see if all was well. Yes, aunt 
 Ellen was much as usual, and able to do 
 a little about the house, but missing her 
 darlins: more than words could tell. Celia s 
 
 O 
 
 letter to her " precious Molliekin " reported 
 herself as in superb condition, and as work 
 ing with Miss Barton like a whole lodge of 
 beavers. Nothing much had happened since 
 she left. Oh yes, the Gardiners had just 
 come in to say they had sold their place very 
 unexpectedly to a young Eastern lawyer 
 with a delicate throat, who wanted to try 
 California climate. His name was Hunter, 
 Francis Hunter ; and his mother was a 
 certain high caste Boston Brahmin whom 
 Mrs. Gardiner mentioned with bated breath. 
 The letter closed with a whole row of 
 inky kisses, and at the bottom of the. sheet 
 
70 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 was a sketch of the vine-wreathed gate of 
 Glen Ellen, with a huge sign hanging there 
 from on which was printed in bold letters, 
 
 CELIA MOORE, Floral Decorator, 
 WEDDINGS A SPECIALTY. 
 
 A spider-waisted exquisite with a tasseled 
 cane and a silk hat was amazedly regarding 
 this legend through his single eye-glass, while 
 with one delicate, aristocratic hand he seemed 
 waving away the thought of neighborship 
 with such a person. 
 
 " Evidently Francis Hunter," laughed 
 Mary. " Well, Celia would n t have time 
 for him anyway, so it s no matter if he does 
 scorn her." 
 
 The dear California letters added fresh 
 fuel to the fire of homesickness smouldering 
 in the girl s breast, but life in this little 
 frontier town was so gay and so novel, the 
 people so hospitable and Judge and Mrs. 
 Mason so kind, that she could not indulge 
 in long seasons of misery. Every after 
 noon there were drives on the level roads 
 that stretched miles away through cactus and 
 sage-brush, roads as firm and smooth as 
 
A BREATHING SPACE 71 
 
 those of a park, and so hard that the horses 
 hoofs sounded on them like the roll of a 
 drum. The cavalry post, Fort Gordon, six 
 miles away, was often visited, and Mary 
 feasted her eyes on epaulettes, brass buttons, 
 gold fringes, blue uniforms, yellow-lined cav 
 alry capes, and dashing officers on prancing 
 steeds. The regiment was one that had seen 
 much Indian service, and the general com 
 manding took rather a fancy to little Miss 
 Annesley, and delighted in telling her tales 
 of " hair-breadth scapes i the imminent 
 deadly breach," and in seeing her blue eyes 
 dilate till they were veritable round O s of 
 surprise and excitement. There were walks, 
 too, by the tiny, willow - fringed river, the 
 only green spot near this arid town set in 
 mid-desert ; there were evening parties and 
 hosts of young men callers, so many that 
 not even the vainest of girls could have fan 
 cied their number a tribute to her charms. 
 
 While Mary sang and danced and walked 
 and drove, however, there was a constant 
 undercurrent of anxiety in her mind about 
 Ceritas. Why did she not hear from " Miss 
 Barbara," and why did they not come for her 
 to begin her school? Tontin people, those 
 who had visited Sonora at all, were unani- 
 
72 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 mous in considering her destination a dirty, 
 sleepy little hamlet entirely remote from civ 
 ilization, but Mary s work was waiting for 
 her there, and with each home letter she 
 received, revealing as it did unconsciously 
 the heavy cloud of care resting on the house 
 hold, she took a firmer grip of her resolu 
 tion to begin her work soon, if she had to 
 walk to Ceritas to do it. Judge and Mrs. 
 Mason, on the contrary, were entirely un 
 concerned about the delay; said that Mr. 
 Vazquez was probably away on business, 
 that she would doubtless be called for in 
 good time, and that there was no occasion 
 for anxiety if she was never delivered at all. 
 In that case they should take possession 
 of her to pay charges, and a very good bar 
 gain it would be, to be sure. 
 
 A week after the letter to Mrs. Vazquez 
 was posted, the judge departed for the " Last 
 Chance " mines, taking Jack Martin with 
 him. 
 
 " You 11 probably hear from Ceritas in a 
 few days," he said to Mary, his foot already 
 in the stirrup, " and when I come back I ll 
 see that you get off comfortably. Be a good 
 girl, and don t abuse my absence by breaking 
 every heart in town." 
 
A BREATHING SPACE 73 
 
 Jack, who with fatherly solemnity had 
 frequently warned her against her impatience 
 to be gone, advising rather that she should 
 remain in Tontin altogether, clattered up at 
 this juncture, brave in a flapping Mexican 
 sombrero, a yard and a quarter round the 
 brim, and decked with silver cords and tas 
 sels. His waist was swathed in a red silk 
 sash into which a pistol was thrust, and thus 
 attired, and with his jingling spurs, he made 
 a most dramatic and picturesque appear 
 ance as he jumped from his horse to bid 
 adieu to the ladies. 
 
 " Good-by, Miss Annesley," he said, hold 
 ing her hand with a tight, boyish squeeze 
 for a moment ; " I m sorry to go, if only for 
 a few days, but they say it 11 do me good up 
 there, and I must get well, you know. We 11 
 have lots of fine rides when I come back. 
 Good-by again. Good-by, Mrs. Mason." 
 
 Mary watched him out of sight with a 
 curious and unexpected lump mounting in 
 her throat. " Pie s such a nice boy," she 
 thought, "and he looked paler than ever 
 under that umbrella of a hat. Oh, I do 
 hope he 11 get better. ... I wonder if I 
 shall be gone before he comes back. . . . 
 Mrs. Mason," she called after a moment, "I 
 
74 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 think I 11 go down to the post-office now, if 
 you don t mind. I won t be long." 
 
 " Very well, dear," sounded from an inner 
 room, " and will you tell Larry as you go, 
 that we shall want the horses at three 
 o clock ? We 11 drive to the Post and hear 
 the band this afternoon." 
 
 Such curious ways have things of happen 
 ing in this topsy-turvy world that the first 
 thing that met Mary s eyes as she unlocked 
 the mail box was a letter from Ceritas. 
 
 " Oh, of course," she groaned, " just as 
 the judge has gone, and I can t get any ad 
 vice, and can t bid him good-by ! Is n t it 
 too provoking ! " 
 
 She read the letter as she walked home, 
 too absorbed in its contents to notice that 
 Tom Travers flew out of his office door to 
 bow to her, that Mr. Archer nearly tumbled 
 downstairs in his anxiety to reach the street 
 before she passed, and that Dick Bolton, 
 whom she really liked, stood hesitating at 
 the corner, ready to " light her on her home 
 ward way," if given the least encourage 
 ment. 
 
 What were Tom, or Dick, or Harry to 
 her, however, in her present state and in 
 view of the contents of the letter ? 
 
A BREATHING SPACE 75 
 
 Mrs. Vazquez wrote that her husband was 
 absent on business, and that she had waited 
 a few days before answering Mary s letter, 
 hoping to be able to come for her in person, 
 but had found it impossible, as their friend 
 and next-door neighbor, Mr. Altamirano, 
 who might have escorted her, was just now 
 at his post in the State Legislature. Mary 
 must therefore come down in the stage ; it 
 was a two days trip, but there was no night 
 travel, and on the afternoon of the second 
 day she would meet her at Loma Prieta, 
 fifteen miles from Ceritas, and bring her 
 home herself. 
 
 Mary s heart fell to the sinking-point as 
 she thought of another stage journey, unat 
 tended this time, and she walked a mile into 
 the country to regain her courage and study 
 how to present the matter to Mrs. Mason in 
 the best light. 
 
 Even this best light, when subsequently 
 turned on, was apparently regarded as but 
 a farthing-candle by that lady, who declared 
 that the journey was not to be considered 
 for a moment, that the judge would never 
 hear of it if he were at home, that it was 
 not safe, and that she could not think of 
 allowing it. 
 
76 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Mary promised to consider the matter for 
 a while, and did so to such purpose that 
 she posted a letter before breakfast next 
 morning, announcing that she would be at 
 Loma Prieta on the fourth day from that 
 date. When it had dropped into the box 
 with a dull sound that seemed to settle the 
 matter, she bravely made her way into the 
 stage-office and engaged her passage, leav 
 ing the agent rubbing his eyes in surprise 
 at the youth of this early-risen business 
 woman. 
 
 The die was cast, and Mrs. Mason had 
 nothing to do but bewail the decision, which 
 she did to such purpose, being manfully 
 assisted by all callers, that her poor charge 
 felt as if she were about to take as preca 
 rious a journey as the Three Wise Men of 
 Gotham. Still she grasped her courage in 
 both hands, made her preparations, and 
 wrote her home letters, closing each one 
 with the doubly underlined warning : - 
 
 " THE SONORA MAIL GOES OUT EVERY 
 MONDAY AND IT TAKES FOUR DAYS TO GET 
 
 A LETTER THERE FROM CORONA. Vct bum 
 
 sap." 
 
 She said not a word, of course, brave lit 
 tle maid, of any of her fears or heart-sink- 
 
A BREATHING SPACE 77 
 
 ings, and affected to consider her trip with 
 perfect unconcern. 
 
 The eventful Monday came ; Mrs. Mason 
 accompanied her to the stage-office and bade 
 her, a tender farewell ; she climbed into a 
 rickety buckboard, drawn by two wicked- 
 looking mustangs, and was whisked out of 
 sight in a moment, sped upon her way by a 
 dozen waving hats and a dozen good-bys 
 from as many manly throats. 
 
 " It is done ! " thought Mary : - 
 
 . . . " We are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; 
 They 11 have fleet steeds that follow ! quoth young 
 Lochinvar." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HO, FOR CERITAS ! 
 
 SURELY never was vehicle so well de 
 signed for the discomfort of travelers as the 
 Ceritas buckboard ! It was without springs, 
 it was dusty and dirty, there were gaping 
 holes in its floor, its canvas curtains were 
 torn in ribbons, its leather seats were slit 
 and the stuffing was oozing out, its woolly 
 steeds were gaunt and evidently came of a 
 nameless race, and its driver was a tousle- 
 headed youth, wrapped in a blanket. All 
 these details were noted by Mary s quick 
 eye, but she was too young to find them 
 anything but novel and amusing, and too 
 inexperienced to foresee that they boded ill 
 for either a safe or a pleasant journey. 
 
 When the stage-office had been left a few 
 squares behind, they stopped on a corner to 
 take up a swarthy, disreputable looking fel 
 low, who, with a surprised and rather sinis 
 ter glance at the youthful passenger, took 
 his seat by the driver. At the outskirts of 
 
HO, FOR CERITAS 79 
 
 the town they stopped again at the door of 
 a well-kept house, and an elderly Mexican 
 gentleman, with a basket, a bag, and a bun 
 dle of traveling shawls, installed himself in 
 the stage. As he took his seat, he addressed 
 a few courteous words in English to Mary, 
 who was the more delighted to hear them, 
 as she had already found that her compre 
 hension of Spanish conversation was rather 
 limited. Here was an interpreter for the 
 journey, and evidently a gentleman too, if 
 her intuitions did not deceive her. 
 
 Uncertain what conventionality demanded 
 of her, if indeed conventionality cut any 
 figure in an unescorted journey into Mexico 
 at her age, she looked out at the landscape, 
 though she could not help being conscious 
 that her companion was staring at her with 
 a puzzled gaze. He soon opened a conver 
 sation which greatly relieved her embarrass 
 ment, for in its course she learned that he 
 was the Mexican consul for Tontin, that his 
 name was Alvarado, and, joyful information, 
 that he was going to Ceritas ! 
 
 When he discovered on his part that 
 Ceritas was also her destination, and that 
 she was traveling alone, he shook his head 
 and murmured under his breath some Span- 
 
80 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 ish words which Mary only partly caught. 
 They sounded like an appeal to the saints 
 above, though why the blessed should be 
 called upon just then was not clear to her 
 mind. 
 
 Nor did she understand for months what 
 happened directly afterwards, though it was 
 a deed of chivalry and a credit to the blood 
 of all the Alvarados. The consul stopped 
 the stage; he alighted, and apparently re 
 quested the ruffian on the front seat to 
 alight also ; they held a parley, the consul 
 pointing toward Tontin ; the ruffian shook 
 his head ; the consul held out a handful of 
 silver and stamped his foot ; his antagonist 
 looked at it disdainfully and shrugged his 
 shoulders ; the consul held out more silver 
 and a package of cigarettes; the ruffian 
 seemed to regard this offering with favor, 
 pocketed it at once, and walked away in the 
 direction of the town. 
 
 Mary idly looked on at the scene without 
 understanding the dialogue, thinking how 
 quickly they talked, how dramatic the con 
 sul s gestures were, and how interested the 
 driver seemed, though she could not see why 
 he kept looking at her. She could not but 
 wonder what the subject under discussion 
 
HO, FOR CERITAS 81 
 
 might be, finally deciding that the consul 
 must have forgotten some important duty, 
 though it seemed strange he should confide 
 it to that drunken-looking rascal. Never 
 mind, she must not be too curious, and she 
 fell into musings about Ceritas, wished Prin 
 cess Celia were there to sketch the stage, 
 and finally, returning to present things, 
 thanked her kindly stars for her companion, 
 though, indeed, she was too young to realize 
 what good cause she had for gratitude. 
 
 " You do not object to a cigarrito, 
 madam?" asked a grave voice at her elbow. 
 
 "Oh no, sir, no indeed. Who could 
 object to it in an open stage ? " answered 
 Mary, inwardly chuckling at being called 
 madam, and also at the fact that the driver 
 had been smoking like a chimney ever since 
 they started. 
 
 " You American ladies are very complai 
 sant," rolling a cigarette with a practiced 
 hand, " and very brave too. I doubt if you 
 would find any of my countrywomen willing 
 to undertake a journey like this at your age, 
 and alone." 
 
 " Perhaps not, sir ; but I did n t know any 
 thing about frontier travel until I reached 
 Yuma, and then of course I had to go to 
 Ceritas, for I d promised, you see ! " 
 
UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " To promise and to perform are the same 
 thing, then, senorita?" 
 
 "I mean they shall be, sir, with me," 
 with a brave look into the dark face. 
 
 " Good, good, my child ! I foresee much 
 happiness for my little compatriots when 
 they learn of you. It is a beautiful country, 
 mine, but," with a sigh, "it is poor, it is 
 harassed by political troubles, and education 
 is very backward." 
 
 Then there was a silence, Mr. Alvarado 
 lost in thought, his half-shut eyes gleaming 
 through a cloud of smoke, and Mary begin 
 ning to look about her to find that a change 
 in the landscape had already taken place. 
 The sage-brush had been replaced by a 
 short, autumn-tinted grass, whose pale yellow 
 stalks and fringed tips showed a peculiar 
 lustrous sheen as they bent and rose to the 
 breeze. The course of a distant stream was 
 outlined by a waving ribbon of cottonwood 
 trees, the far-off mountains were softly blue 
 like those around Corona, and the hard 
 smooth road offered so little resistance to 
 the wheels of the buckboard that one almost 
 felt as if flying through space. Mr. Alva 
 rado talked a little now and then about Mr. 
 Vazquez, who seemed to be a great friend, 
 
HO, FOR CERITAS 83 
 
 spoke of Dona Barbarita, as he called her, 
 whom he evidently admired, described Ceri- 
 tas, and told some thrilling Apache stories, 
 which were much more to his companion s 
 taste on that gloriously sunny morning than 
 they might have been as the evening dusk 
 began to fall. 
 
 They stopped for dinner near the frontier 
 at a half-deserted village, many of whose 
 houses were a mass of crumbling adobe 
 bricks. A swinging sign bearing the name 
 " The Lone Star " marked the place of re 
 freshment, which even to experienced eyes 
 exhibited certain novel and unique features. 
 The entrance was evidently a butcher s shop, 
 or a place for cold storage, in which hung 
 the sanguinary carcasses of several defunct 
 animals. The dining-room, into which this 
 apartment opened, was as usual mud-floored 
 and bare-tabled, while several friendly hens 
 were using the chairs as roosting-places. 
 The dishes upon being handled felt so rough 
 with matter out of place that an instanta 
 neous distrust of the food was engendered ; 
 so Mary took refuge in eggs, being ignorant, 
 fortunately, of the modern theory that mi 
 crobes penetrate even their shells. 
 
 A guitar sounded across the deserted 
 
84 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 square while they rested on the porch of 
 " The Lone Star, * and a fascinating Span 
 ish song was several times repeated in a 
 clear tenor voice. It was a passionate adieu 
 to some loved one whose name appeared to 
 be Semiramis, and caught Mary s musical 
 fancy so quickly that she hummed it again 
 and again during the afternoon. Hearing 
 this, Mr. Alvarado, whose memory, like that 
 of most of his countrymen, seemed to be a 
 storehouse of old ballads and folk songs, 
 taught her the words ; and succeeding bril 
 liantly in this effort went on to investigate 
 her knowledge of Spanish, made her talk to 
 him and taught her new phrases, while the 
 driver, who up to this time had been little 
 but a pillar of cloud and as silent as one, 
 emerged from his concealment and showed 
 his white teeth in a laugh occasionally. 
 
 Thus passed what was really a pleasant 
 day, for the consul, kindly man, exerted 
 himself to amuse his little fellow-traveler, 
 and in so doing seemed to reap the reward 
 of virtue and entertain himself the while. 
 Supper was frugally eaten from the respec 
 tive lunch-baskets as they jogged along, and 
 at dusk they again changed horses, the place 
 where they were to spend the night being 
 
HO, FOR CERITAS 85 
 
 about four hours distant, according to the 
 driver s calculation. 
 
 Not long had the new steeds traveled 
 before they proved themselves to be either 
 already weary in flesh and spirit, or of a 
 wrong-headedness and perversity never par 
 alleled in equine annals. They balked at 
 hillocks a foot high, they hesitated at pud 
 dles, shied at shadows, and came to a full 
 stop with legs wide apart in front of a 
 brook. Three persons and one small trunk 
 was surely no overwhelming load for a span 
 of horses, but as the dusk grew into evening 
 matters grew more ominous still. 
 
 It was a cold night, the water by the 
 wayside glazed with a thin film of ice, and 
 as the pale moon rose and hung spectral on 
 the horizon, a chill wind began to blow, and 
 the dark shadows flung by the clumps of 
 bushes looked like so many crouching In 
 dians. Suddenly there was a blood-curdling 
 yell and the horses began to gallop furiously. 
 
 Mary shrieked also, in spite of herself, 
 and the consul hurriedly said, " Do not be 
 alarmed, seilorita, it is the driver trying an 
 Apache war-whoop to stir up the horses." 
 
 " Horrors ! I should think it might stir 
 up the dead," shivered Mary. "Will he 
 do it again ? " 
 
86 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Oh, yes, he not only did it again, but Mr. 
 Alvarado reinforced him several times, and 
 these fiendish cries put the crowning touch 
 to a distressing evening. The beasts for 
 whom they were intended, however, minded 
 them very little on the whole, and began to 
 balk again, finally coming to a decisive, 
 stiff-legged stop in the middle of a moonlit 
 plain that looked as wide as the ocean. 
 
 It was now ten o clock, and the driver 
 gave it as his opinion that there was no 
 hope of reaching Dos Palmas, their projected 
 stopping - place, that night, and that the 
 horses might as well be taken out and left 
 to rest and graze for a while. This was 
 done, they were hobbled, and the two men 
 sat down on the shafts of the buckboard to 
 smoke and talk. Not long afterward the 
 driver, rising, found that one of the trouble 
 some steeds had disappeared and at once set 
 off in pursuit. As he did not return, Mr. 
 Alvarado followed him, and in a few mo 
 ments poor Mary sat deserted in the stage, 
 no human creature in sight, nor so far as 
 she knew to be found within miles, utterly 
 alone in the midst of that vast plain of 
 Mexico. 
 
 " If Robinson Crusoe felt any more deso- 
 
HO, FOR CERITAS 87 
 
 late on Juan Fernandez, he deserves more 
 pity than he ever received," thought Mary. 
 " Oh, if Aunt Ellen could only see me ! If 
 they never come back, shall I mount the 
 other horse and ride to the nearest settle 
 ment ? I 11 drag my trunk behind me with 
 a rope. How funny I shall look ! Ha, ha, 
 ha, ha ! Oh, dear, but I m cold and fright 
 ened ! " and laughter struggling with tears 
 brought on an approach to hysterics. 
 
 Suddenly horses hoofs were heard, and she 
 composed herself as the two men and the 
 missing beast appeared, the latter wearing 
 an expression of fiendish glee, as if he glo 
 ried in the trouble he had made. 
 
 "Senorita," called the consul, as she 
 leaned forward eagerly at sight of his broad 
 shoulders, " were you alarmed in our ab 
 sence ? Ah, you are quite calm and fear 
 less, I see. That is well. The driver tells 
 me that he will go on an hour or two longer, 
 now, and then rest until dawn at a wayside 
 place he knows of." 
 
 The horses traveled better when harnessed 
 in again, and in another hour they drew up 
 at the foot of a hill crowned with a flat- 
 roofed brush hut, open in front to all the 
 winds of heaven. A little fire was still 
 
88 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 smouldering outside, and by its light the 
 consul poked about among the sleeping in 
 mates and discovered, as he told his startled 
 companion in an undertone, that there were 
 already three sheep-herders, the half-breed 
 to whom the dwelling belonged, his Indian 
 wife and grown son, stretched on the ground 
 within in deepest slumber. She was para 
 lyzed with fright and astonishment. Was 
 she expected to go in there with all those 
 people and sleep on the bare ground that 
 cold night? Yes, that was evidently the 
 intention. The consul found her a corner 
 near the door behind a screen of pine 
 boughs, bade her wrap herself in all her 
 shawls, insisted on mixing her a draught 
 from his flask, laid a blanket on the ground, 
 said he would stretch himself out next the 
 screen so that she might feel safer, and 
 handed her to her couch with the courtly 
 manner of the cavaliers, his ancestors. 
 
 What was she to do ? She could not sit 
 in the stage all night, she could not stand 
 outside, she could not run back to Tontin ; 
 and liberty of choice being thus narrowed, 
 she curled up in her corner without a pro 
 test. Oh, but the earth was cold ; oh, but 
 the wind whistled through the brush sides of 
 
HO, FOR CERITAS 89 
 
 the hut ! Her two companions were asleep 
 in a trice, and added their heavy breathings 
 to the midnight chorus sounding around 
 her. How could anybody sleep on that hard 
 ground and in a cold that seemed to stop the 
 very heart from beating ? After an hour or 
 so it was more than could be borne, and she 
 stepped softly over the consul, and adding 
 a few branches to the dying fire wrapped 
 herself up tightly and crouched on a great 
 stone in front of the quickly leaping blaze. 
 This was no time for tears, but for very 
 blackness of misery, and for a loneliness and 
 homesickness that pierced the marrow of her 
 bones. 
 
 White-faced and staring into the embers, 
 so Mr. Alvarado found her when he wak 
 ened in the gray dawn, and with many mut 
 tered reproaches at his own pig-headedness 
 and stupidity, as he termed them, he rolled 
 her in his own blankets, piled her wraps on 
 top, plucked the stage robes from the uncon 
 scious driver and added them to the heap, 
 and took her former seat on the stone. So, 
 thanks to the Mexican courtesy, which in 
 Mary s experience was never far off when 
 needed, the poor, tired child snatched an 
 hour s slumber, during which time the sheep- 
 
90 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 herders took their departure, the owners of 
 the hut arose, the driver awoke, and the 
 horses were harnessed. 
 
 Breakfast was found in the lunch-baskets, 
 and as Mary sat mending her dress just be 
 fore starting, the Indian woman crept up, 
 and with many appealing gestures appeared 
 to beg for the precious needle. 
 
 " Dear me, you poor thing ! " cried the 
 seamstress, quickly understanding, " yes, of 
 course, a whole paper of them. See, Mr. 
 Alvarado, how pleased she is. Can you 
 make her understand that she can have 
 some thread if she wants it ? " 
 
 The woman gave her a beaming smile 
 and a quick caress, and as the stage rattled 
 away she stood by the fire waving her hand 
 to her benefactor. 
 
 The country all that day was beautiful 
 even in its winter dress : there were groves 
 of cottonwoods, clumps of dark live-oaks, 
 tinkling brooks and swift blue rivers, wav 
 ing yellow grass, picturesque tumble-down 
 villages, groups of dusky children, bright 
 air and sunshine, and a growing excitement 
 as afternoon drew on and " Miss Barbara " 
 might be expected at any moment. 
 
 Yet it was not until dusk, at the mill in 
 
HO, FOR CERITAS 91 
 
 Las Flores, ten miles from Ceritas, that 
 Mary fell into the friendly arms waiting to 
 receive her, and felt as if her troubles had 
 all been lifted for a season. She was warmly 
 welcomed, drawn into the house, and pre 
 sented to the miller and his wife, as well as 
 to a melancholy young man, with a Charles 
 the Fifth beard, whose name of Raimundo 
 Altamirano seemed all too long for her tired 
 brain to remember. 
 
 It appeared that supper was to be taken 
 here, and she sat down to the meal, ad 
 dressed in English on the one side by Mrs. 
 Vazquez, on the other by Monsieur Lafleur, 
 in his native tongue, and from the other end 
 of the table in Spanish, by his wife. Too 
 weary and confused by this polyglot house 
 hold either to eat or understand, she was not 
 sorry when after supper two white horses 
 were brought to the door, and it appeared 
 that the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, 
 who had brought Mrs. Vazquez to the mill, 
 was to drive them both back to Ceritas. 
 
 On the homeward way this pensive cava 
 lier was almost ignored, for as it appeared 
 that he spoke no English, Mary talked her 
 heart out to her beloved " Miss Barbara." 
 
 They reached their destination, drew up 
 
92 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 before a long adobe house with iron-grated 
 windows, clattered in through a great double 
 door in the centre, alighted in the court 
 yard, and Mrs. Vazquez showed the traveler 
 into a spacious, brick-floored room, where 
 three children were sitting by an open fire. 
 
 This was Ceritas, at last ; this house was 
 to be her abiding place, these black-eyed 
 children were some of her future pupils ; 
 the bright flames seemed wonderfully cheer 
 ing to her tired eyes, and to crown the 
 homelike impression, a beautiful Gordon 
 setter drew near as soon as she had taken 
 a seat and laid his head in her lap. 
 
 Her journey was over, her native land 
 was far away, and she was under the shelter 
 of the Cactus Flag. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 "GOOD mor-nin , Mees Mehree!" sounded 
 in her ear next day, and a spray of orange- 
 blossoms was laid on her pillow. 
 
 " Good morning," sitting up in her nar 
 row cot and pushing back her ruffled locks. 
 " Oh, it is Lucina, is n t it? Did n t I see 
 you last evening?" 
 
 44 Yes, Lucina Lucina Mariscal. Not 
 spik much Englees. Mees Mehree teach," 
 smilingly said a brunette girl a year or two 
 younger than Mary. "It is seven o clock," 
 rapidly, in her own tongue; "do you feel 
 rested enough to get up ? because if you re 
 not, Barbarita says I may bring you your 
 breakfast in bed." 
 
 " Oh yes, of course I 11 get up. Oh, 
 what lovely orange-blossoms ! Did you 
 bring them for me ? " as the girlish figure 
 with its long black braids turned to leave 
 the room. 
 
 " Si, sefiorita. I brought them for a wel 
 come. There are many in the garden." 
 
94 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Let me see. Who is she ? " thought 
 Mary, hurriedly rising and bringing her 
 bare feet into surprised contact with the 
 bricks. " Ugh, how cold ! Aunt Ellen s 
 worsted slippers will be useful here. Oh, 
 yes, I remember. She s one of Mr. Vaz 
 quez s relatives, and she s going to live 
 here this winter to learn English and go to 
 school. She s nice, I know. Why, my 
 basin and pitcher are brown earthenware. 
 How funny! I wish my trunk were in here. 
 I can t bear to put on that old traveling 
 rig again. Oh, my pillow is made of red 
 damask. I did n t notice it before ; and 
 what a pretty pillow-case, with all that Mex 
 ican work ! " and so, delaying her toilet 
 somewhat by peeps through the barred win 
 dow and tours of inspection about the cur 
 tained inclosure which formed her chamber, 
 she at last finished dressing and made her 
 way to the room in which she had been re 
 ceived the previous night. 
 
 There was a merry breakfast over which 
 Mrs. Vazquez presided, three children being 
 present, Lucina and her two younger bro 
 thers, Vicente and Faustino. All these were 
 to form part of the household that winter 
 for practice in English, of which tongue it 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS 95 
 
 seemed that the boys knew nothing as yet. 
 Lucina s accomplishments were only about 
 a month old, and though she already knew a 
 number of words, yet she understood very 
 little conversation, so it seemed clear that 
 Mary would have all needful opportunities 
 at home, as well as abroad, to perfect her 
 self in Spanish. 
 
 The house, as they looked it over after 
 breakfast, was indeed a curiosity in her 
 eyes, and she could not but consider it ill- 
 adapted to any but a tropical climate. It 
 was adobe, of course, flat-roofed, one-storied, 
 and though one hundred and fifty feet long, 
 contained but four rooms, no one of which 
 communicated with the others. There were 
 no doors on the street save the great arched, 
 stone-paved entrance, or zaguan, which usu 
 ally stood half-open during the day, though 
 each room had two long window openings, 
 without glass, barred their whole length 
 with thick iron gratings, and provided in 
 side with heavy wooden shutters, above and 
 below. The floors were laid with large 
 square bricks, the whitewashed walls were 
 very high, the great beams across the ceil 
 ing were unpainted, and the doors, which 
 were fastened with chains and bars, opened 
 
96 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 on a brick sidewalk running along the back 
 of the house. 
 
 " If you want anything in your room, 
 after dinner, Mary," laughed Mrs. Vazquez, 
 " you 11 have to light a lantern, go out 
 doors, and walk half a block for it. You d 
 better follow iny example. I ve had pock 
 ets as big as Madame Swiss Family Robin 
 son s put in all my dresses." 
 
 The kitchen was separate from the house, 
 and when they entered it, a fat and very 
 dusky cook sat cross-legged on the floor in 
 front of the open fire, surrounded by piles 
 of breakfast dishes which she was washing, 
 in that position. A two months argument, 
 it seemed, had already been held with Doiia 
 Juana, regarding the advantages of a table 
 for this task, but she had been deaf to rea 
 soning, and still squatted, like a giant toad, 
 accompanied by her youngest hopeful, a 
 brown-eyed barefoot, who looked up and 
 smiled at the party like one of Carlo Dolce s 
 cherubs. Mary s own room was curtained 
 off at one end of a nobly proportioned apart 
 ment, at the other extremity of which was 
 Lucina s cot, the space between being occu 
 pied by sacks of brown beans or frijoles 
 piled as high as the ceiling. Mary had al- 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS 97 
 
 ready breakfasted on these useful vegeta 
 bles, cooked Mexican fashion, and their 
 savor had been so delicious to her palate 
 that she could not regret the presence of 
 the sacks in her room, feeling that they 
 indicated a comfortable provision for the 
 winter. 
 
 As they left this chamber, rather a novelty 
 in the line of a maiden s bower, a thin wrin 
 kled crone, wrapped in a ragged shawl, stood 
 in the entrance door, holding out an empty 
 gourd appealingly, while she prayed for 
 blessings on the head of " Dona Barba- 
 rita." 
 
 " It s a beggar, Mary," said Mrs. Vaz 
 quez. " We give them frijoles here, in 
 stead of money. Gather some oranges for 
 your teacher, Lucina, dear, while I fill the 
 poor old woman s gourd." 
 
 Back of the house ran a fence of slender 
 cactus stalks, behind which was the fragrant 
 orchard where Mary was taken to pick her 
 first oranges. The trees were loaded not 
 only with ripe, yellow fruit, but with gold 
 and white blossoms, and green and half- 
 ripe spheres, and the two girls took seven- 
 league strides into friendship as they ate the 
 fruit together. 
 
98 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 They made a pretty contrast, Mrs. Vaz 
 quez thought, as they came through the 
 orchard gate, for Lucina s hair and brows 
 and lashes were of the dense blackness of 
 charcoal, and the pale chocolate of her soft 
 cheek lost none of its twilight beauty be 
 side Mary s tints of cream and carnation. 
 
 These rosy cheeks of hers, which she had 
 always derided, considering them blowsy 
 and milkmaid-like, were a passport to favor 
 in Sonora, she soon found, and from their 
 novelty gained general admiration. The 
 little children by and by brought her pink 
 sweet-peas, which they declared, in their 
 pretty foreign fashion, had kept her color in 
 mind when they blossomed; and the older 
 girls used to write her adoring notes in 
 which they called her their Rose of Castile. 
 
 This morning the admired roses bloomed 
 brighter than ever, for life looked fairer 
 than it had done for many weeks. The 
 journey was over, Mrs. Vazquez very kind 
 and friendly, two home letters had been 
 awaiting her, the orchard was enchanting, 
 all the children she had seen most prepos 
 sessing, and it was with a grateful heart that 
 she walked by Mrs. Vazquez s side, as after 
 luncheon they set out to make a tour of 
 Ceritas. 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS 99 
 
 It was a little place, as she had been told 
 .in Arizona, but it was picturesquely set in 
 the midst of rolling hills covered with cacti 
 and backed by lofty spurs of the Sierra 
 Madre range. A clear, willow-fringed river 
 ran by the town, and Lucina was rapturous 
 over the number and beauty of the wild- 
 flowers that would soon be in bloom near its 
 banks. El Cerro de la Yentana (the win 
 dow mountain) was one curiosity pointed out 
 to her : a barren peak near by, with a broad 
 reddish streak like a dark stain across its 
 breast* Near the top was a rift in the solid 
 rock like a window in a fortress, showing 
 the blue sky beyond ; and through this open 
 ing, legend said, a famous Yaqui chief, 
 wounded and fleeing from his foes, had 
 leaped a century ago. It was the blood that 
 dripped from his gaping wounds that had 
 dyed the mountain red, said the Yaquis, 
 and never would it disappear, they prophe 
 sied, until the Mexicans redressed the cruel 
 wrongs inflicted upon the tribe. 
 
 This tale was related by Vicente Maris- 
 cal, the curly-haired youngster who had es 
 corted them, and was accompanied by such 
 sweeps of the brown hands, such dilating of 
 eyes, such play of color and such energy of 
 
100 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 emphasis, that even a deaf-mute might have 
 made shift to understand him, thought Mary. 
 
 In the public square or plaza, across which 
 could be seen the old half-Moorish church 
 of Saint Francis Xavier, they met an inter 
 esting family of a dozen baby pigs, who 
 with their mother occupied the very spot 
 in the centre where a statue might fitly 
 have been placed. Lucina blushed and 
 pouted at this barbarous sight, as she called 
 it, and wondered audibly how it would be 
 regarded in " Mees Mehree s country ; " but 
 that young lady, not in the least shocked, 
 stopped so long to admire the pink innocence 
 of the piglings that she was dragged away 
 forcibly to inspect the church. 
 
 "There s an interesting tradition," said 
 Mrs. Vazquez, "about the image of Saint 
 Francis Xavier we shall find in here. 
 
 " It seems that it was not intended for 
 this place at all, but was sent from some city 
 in the interior, in the latter part of last cen 
 tury, to fill a shrine further south. Well, 
 on the way the mule that carried the pre 
 cious figure was lost, and after long search 
 was found in a thicket here on this very 
 spot. The drivers, Lucina s mother told 
 me, are said to have employed every means, 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS 101 
 
 sacred and profane, to get the animal to 
 move on, but he would not stir, and so they 
 concluded there was some mysterious mean 
 ing in his obstinacy and unloaded the im- 
 age." 
 
 " And when they had done that, the case 
 could not be moved either ! " cried Lucina, 
 pressing nearer, "though they sent to the 
 nearest village for the priest to see what he 
 could do." 
 
 "Yes, it is said that all effort was ex 
 hausted," continued Mrs. Vazquez, " and 
 the priest told them at last that it was clear 
 Saint Francis Xavier wanted a church built 
 in his honor on this very site, and the faith 
 ful duly complied with his wishes. He is 
 considered, it seems, the most wonderful 
 saint in the calender for curing diseases, 
 and people come from all over the state, and 
 even from Lower California, Arizona, and 
 New Mexico, to lay their offerings at his 
 shrine." 
 
 By this time they had reached the old 
 whitewashed building with its round towers, 
 and tiptoeing over the brick floor, passing 
 the paintings and richly dressed saints, 
 stood before the glass coffin containing the 
 famous image. 
 
102 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " See, Mary," whispered her guide, " the 
 money is slipped through this opening into 
 this great iron-bound box that stands at the 
 feet of the figure, and Padre Romero told 
 me they took out fifteen thousand dollars in 
 gold and silver last year. If only," sighing, 
 " we could have a little of that sum for the 
 schools and the town, though it s well Lucina 
 does n t understand English, or she d be 
 shocked at such a heretical remark." 
 
 As they left the dim, incense-loaded atmo 
 sphere and came out into the sunlight of 
 the plaza, they met a white-haired old gen 
 tleman leaning on his cane, who stopped to 
 be presented to the American teacher. 
 
 "Ha lira. Very young!" he observed 
 to Mrs. Vazquez, after the usual courteous 
 formalities had been said. 
 
 Mary flushed and felt ashamed, but re 
 covered somewhat when her friend answered 
 brightly, "Yes, very young, Don Alberto, 
 but very well instructed and very capable." 
 
 " Hm ah yes, no doubt, no doubt, but 
 very young, very young. Good morning, 
 ladies," and he hobbled away, leaving the 
 conviction in Mary s breast that he was 
 departing to spread the sad news of her 
 extreme youth throughout the entire com 
 munity. 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS 103 
 
 "Never mind, Mariquita," said Mrs. 
 Vazquez, using for the first time the pretty 
 Spanish diminutive that soon grew so dear, 
 "never mind, youth is no fault, and if it 
 were, it s one that s soon mended. Come, 
 children," she added in their own tongue, 
 " let us take Miss Mary to the Alameda. 
 We don t find her too young, do we, 
 Lucina ? " 
 
 " No indeed, of course not, she is exactly 
 right, and Don Alberto is very without man 
 ners," cried this ardent little partisan, whose 
 changing color had shown her disapproval 
 of the old man s bearing. 
 
 The narrow streets through which they 
 passed to the Alameda, a pretty square 
 lined with poplar trees, were like the streets 
 of Tontin, the houses built flush with the 
 sidewalk, their brown bricks, flat roofs, iron- 
 barred windows, and heavy wooden shutters 
 giving an appearance of desolate, prison-like 
 uniformity to the town. All the life and 
 color of the better establishments lay in the 
 courtyards and gardens at the back, and the 
 dwellings of the poor could only be distin 
 guished by the lack of gratings in the win 
 dows and the absence of brick floors and 
 paved entrances, the one rude door opening 
 
104 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 directly into the living-room. Yet the earth 
 floors were cleanly swept, well sprinkled 
 and hard, a saint s picture always hung on 
 the walls, and though the furniture was only 
 a straw mat, a table, and a chair or two, the 
 beds were beautifully white and clean, and 
 much labor had been expended on the pillow 
 cases with their elaborate bands of drawn 
 work, and the gay damask pillows that 
 showed beneath. 
 
 The women and girls who glided by in 
 their soft slippers invariably had either 
 black shawls or rebosos wrapped about their 
 heads, and so folded that only their dark 
 eyes, noses, and a little strip of forehead 
 was visible. 
 
 The reboso Mary found to be a long, 
 soft, fine scarf of cotton or silk, with fringed 
 ends, generally either brown, or dark blue 
 and white in color. 
 
 " It seems to be a universal toilet neces 
 sity," she wrote to her aunt, " apparently 
 worn night and day by some of the women. 
 It is bonnet and shawl in one, and is often 
 so held as to be a kind of mask also, giving 
 a mysterious Oriental look to the dark faces. 
 I wonder if it s a relic of Moorish customs 
 and veiled beauties." 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS 105 
 
 Against the sunny walls of some of these 
 closed, sphinx-like dwellings leaned silent 
 men in cotton trousers, leather sandals, 
 wide hats, and sarapes of vivid red or pur 
 ple or dark-blue, with fanciful stripes and 
 designs. 
 
 Their felt sombreros pulled down over 
 their dusky brows, their snow-white trou 
 sers, the brilliant sarapes wrapped about the 
 shoulders with a fold held over the mouth, 
 the soft brown background of the adobes 
 and the intense blue of the sky above, made 
 a color composition that would have been at 
 once the delight and the despair of an artist, 
 and Mary longed for Celia s happy faculty 
 of sketching, that she might send home some 
 of these picturesque bits. 
 
 On one corner, four squatting men, full- 
 grown, bearded ones, were intent on a game 
 with jack-knives which appeared to be no 
 thing but the common school-boy sport of 
 mumble-the-peg, but was attended with so 
 much gesture and declamation that it might 
 have been faro or rouge et noir. 
 
 Business must be dull and the country far 
 from prosperous, Mary thought, when grown 
 men have time to play mumble-the-peg in 
 the middle of the afternoon. 
 
106 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 From the Alameda they strolled slowly 
 homeward, seeing for one novelty on the 
 way a* number of squealing pigs in as many 
 back yards, each one tied up like a watch 
 dog with a collar and chain about his neck. 
 There was a baby donkey, too, looking over 
 a wall, the veriest of babies, so young that 
 his long soft ears fell like ringlets on either 
 side of his dear furry face. Mary really 
 could n t help climbing up and hugging him, 
 and as at that unfortunate moment Don 
 Alberto hobbled past, it is to be presumed 
 that the stigma of hoidenhood was added to 
 that of youth in his mind. 
 
 On a corner near by was a little shop, 
 where ollas, or earthen jars of various shapes 
 and sizes, bowls, exquisitely braided baskets, 
 wicker bird-cages, and other specimens of 
 Indian handiwork were sold, and here they 
 all lingered for a time, Mary exclaiming 
 over the novelties on every side, and finally 
 bearing away a dainty little basket, deco 
 rated with a curious lattice-work of black, 
 which she destined for aunt Ellen s knit 
 ting. 
 
 The Altamirano house, next their own, 
 looked impenetrably silent as they passed, 
 and Mrs. Vazquez explained that the Knight 
 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS 107 
 
 of the Rueful Countenance had only been at 
 home for a day, had returned to Ures that 
 morning, and had given his housekeeper a 
 brief vacation. 
 
 There were more frijoles, delicious fri- 
 joles, for supper, and tortillas too, a thin 
 unleavened pancake, a foot in diameter, 
 patted thin in the hands and cooked by an 
 open fire. 
 
 In the evening they all sat before the 
 blaze, and Lucina and her brothers sang 
 some Spanish songs, Vicente falling nat 
 urally into a delicious second, and the two 
 little lads warbling with great pathos many 
 sentiments about love and sorrow and re 
 morse and despair and passion, which must 
 have been all Greek to them. 
 
 As Mary laid her head on her red pillow 
 that night, the exile s song, " La Golon- 
 drina," with its refrain of " Nevermore, ah ! 
 nevermore shall I return," sounded in her 
 ears with its mournful cadence, and it is 
 small wonder if there were great tears on 
 the long lashes when at last she sank to 
 sleep. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A YOUTHFUL TEACHER. 
 
 " DING, dong ! Ding, dong ! " clanged 
 the church bell the Monday after Mary 
 reached Ceritas. " Ding, dong ! Come 
 along ! Come to school, to school ! " 
 
 The little teacher stood in her own room 
 looking at the day s text on the wall-roll 
 Celia had illuminated for her. " The Lord 
 is my light and my salvation ; whom shall I 
 fear ? The Lord is the strength of my life ; 
 of whom shall I be afraid ? " sounded the 
 triumphant words. 
 
 They were a call to arms, a ringing re 
 minder of duty, as well as a promise of all 
 needful strength to perform it, and they 
 were sorely needed by the trembling spirit 
 that heard them. The ordeal that lay be 
 fore her was, it must be confessed, one that 
 might well have daunted an older person. 
 She had never taught save a class in Sun 
 day-school, though she had given an occa 
 sional morning s assistance in the seminary 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 109 
 
 kindergarten. That was a kind of glorified 
 play for all the older girls, however, and to 
 be asked to help Miss Hunter a privilege 
 for which they daily sighed. She little sus 
 pected that this slight experimental know 
 ledge of babies and their ways was now to be 
 of the greatest service to her, nor did she real 
 ize, what was also true, that the blood of the 
 pedagogue already ran in her veins, for she 
 came of a race of teachers, whether judges, 
 lawgivers, doctors, professors, or ministers. 
 
 She trembled as she thought of her in 
 experience, she shivered as she remembered 
 that all her teaching was to be done in 
 Spanish, and she might have hidden in the 
 orchard and refused to go to her post at all, 
 had she not been strengthened by the know 
 ledge that Mrs. Vazquez was to spend part 
 of the first week at the school. 
 
 She was still contemplating the wall-roll, 
 with occasional refreshing peeps at aunt 
 Ellen s picture, when a rustle behind her 
 made her turn, and she saw four small tat 
 tered children clinging to her window-bars 
 like four little monkeys, all gazing with 
 round eyes at the Americana s bright hair 
 and rosy cheeks and at the row of books on 
 the table, the pictures on the walls, the gay 
 
110 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 cretonne trunk-cover, and the home-made 
 rugs on the floor. 
 
 Five days experience had accustomed 
 Mary somewhat to the crowd of heads at 
 her window, though at first they made her 
 feel like some strange wild beast in a cage, 
 and caused her to dread that she would be 
 prodded with a stick presently and made to 
 roar. The wooden shutters must be left 
 open, or there would be no light, and as, 
 when the lower ones were closed, the chil 
 dren only climbed up higher and peeped 
 over them, she had resigned herself to the 
 inevitable, and shut herself into the dark for 
 her hasty toilets. 
 
 School time had come now, and she caught 
 up her hat and jacket at Mrs. Vazquez s 
 call, and the imposing procession issued 
 from the zaguan, Lucina by Mary s side, 
 and Faustino and Vicente, gayly chattering, 
 in front. Everybody was wreathed in smiles 
 save the heroine of the day, who looked 
 (and felt) as if she were the royal Mary 
 herself, going to execution. 
 
 "Now, cheer up, Mariquita," said Mrs. 
 Vazquez, " I shall be with you all day, and 
 you re going to do well, I know. Your 
 Spanish has improved wonderfully this past 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 111 
 
 week, and I know Emilio will be delighted 
 when he comes home. You re a great deal 
 more self-helpful than I had supposed, and 
 the way you ve got on with these boys shows 
 that you 11 work miracles with the younger 
 children. Here we are, dear. Welcome to 
 your new domain ! " 
 
 The room had of course been inspected 
 before ; a long, brick-floored, windowless 
 apartment, which had been rented for the 
 new enterprise from a cavalier of decayed 
 fortunes, bearing the lofty name of Don Ti- 
 burcio Ramirez de Aragon. Its two doors 
 opened on the plaza, and directly across the 
 way were the ruins of an old church built two 
 hundred years ago, a daily reminder to the 
 teacher of that extreme juvenility so ob 
 jected to by Don Alberto. 
 
 Twenty children, ranging in age from six 
 to sixteen years, were clustered about the 
 door as they entered, the girls in calico and 
 some few in plain woolen dresses, their heads 
 swathed in rebosos, and the boys in home 
 made suits of some dark mixed stuff. All 
 were neatly dressed, however, for these were 
 children of the best people, who appreciated 
 the advantages of education and hoped for 
 great things from the foreign teacher. 
 
112 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Each scholar had brought his own table 
 and chair, and there was a pleasing variety 
 of color and pattern, blue chairs, brown 
 chairs, white chairs, green, red, and gray ta 
 bles of every geometric shape. 
 
 " Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray ; 
 Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may," 
 
 murmured Mary, as she strove to arrange 
 them in rows and reduce them to school 
 room precision. 
 
 When the children, reinforced by five late 
 comers, were all seated, Mrs. Vazquez intro 
 duced the teacher and made a brief speech 
 which was evidently appreciated by the older 
 members of the company, the little ones 
 sitting grave as judges meanwhile, with sur 
 prised, unwinking eyes. 
 
 Then the two held informal examinations 
 at each table, discovering that all the larger 
 pupils could read their own tongue flu 
 ently, and half of them write fairly well, but 
 that they knew little of arithmetic and al 
 most nothing of geography. All but three 
 of the younger ones could read a trifle too, 
 hesitatingly and with many stumbles, but 
 nobody in school save Lucina knew a word 
 of English. The books which had been 
 provided were English First Readers for all. 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 113 
 
 with parallel columns in their own tongue, 
 a History of the World, in Spanish for the 
 older pupils, and writing books. This was 
 all, and Mary could not help a hysterical 
 laugh when she heard that she was expected 
 to teach arithmetic, grammar, and geogra 
 phy through the medium of dictated lessons 
 in Spanish. There were slates and pencils, 
 a blackboard and chalk, but here the school 
 apparatus ended. 
 
 The rest of the morning was spent in en 
 rolling the names of the pupils, which sim 
 ple exercise gave real delight to the teacher s 
 musical ear as the high-sounding syllables 
 traveled down the paper. 
 
 Pla"cido L6pez, Eulogio Garcia, 
 
 Pascual Salazar, Panchita Arellaga, 
 
 Ramon Chavez, Josefita Sepulveda, 
 
 Lauro Martinez, Salome Garcia, 
 
 Andres Da"vila, Delfina Quiroga, 
 
 Baudelio Padre s, Carmen Cavazos, 
 
 Santiago Granillo, Gertrudis Aldama, 
 
 Reinaldo Rodriguez, Trinidad de la Garza, 
 
 Eusebio Ochoa, Lucina Mariscal, 
 
 Vicente Mariscal, Dolores de la Montana, 
 
 Faustino Mariscal, Manuela Armijo, 
 
 Pedro Resales, Teresa Caraveo. 
 Telesfero Cortez, 
 
114 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Luncheon, which was welcomed after this 
 exciting morning, was of milk and pinole, a 
 flour made of parched corn ; but there were 
 stewed quinces also, and as each of the 
 young people was given a great piece of 
 panocha, the feast was considered delicious. 
 There were piles of panocha in the store 
 room, a dark-brown sugar made at the 
 cane-presses into thick round cakes like ma 
 ple-wax, and Lucina and " Mees Mehree " 
 had already established a five o clock tea sys 
 tem, the tea being absent and replaced by 
 oranges and panocha. 
 
 The children behaved with the propriety 
 of judges on the bench that first day, and 
 their teacher, as she wrote her home letters 
 in the evening, expatiated upon their angelic 
 demeanor and prophesied that it would be 
 no trouble at all to manage them. In this, 
 however, she was counting her chickens at 
 least two w r eeks and six days before they 
 were hatched, for though awed at first by the 
 American teacher and by the wonderful in 
 novation of boys and girls at school together, 
 they were quite as naughty afterwards as 
 ordinary children ; and Faustino Mariscal 
 proved to be a very imp of mischief. 
 
 If they were just as naughty, they were 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 115 
 
 just as charming too, and had the pretti 
 est manners, the most endearing ways, the 
 sweetest epithets at their tongues ends, and 
 the most astonishing vivacity of any chil 
 dren ever seen. Their tempers were hot, it 
 is true, and they took nothing calmly, but 
 though rather sensitive and "touchy" they 
 cooled off quickly, save in the case of two of 
 the boys, Lauro Martinez and Pedro Kosales, 
 who sulked and glowered much of the time. 
 Lucina was a tower of strength, and should 
 have been made a salaried assistant, her ser 
 vices were so valuable, and there was an 
 other girl of thirteen, Carmencita Cavazos, 
 who had prostrated herself at Mary s shrine 
 the first moment she saw her, and ever after 
 spent herself in worship there. 
 
 " Mees Mehree," as the children called 
 her, walked home that first night with a 
 package of slates under her arm, and with 
 a ruler, a pointed file, and Vicente s able 
 assistance marked off one side of them in 
 quarter - inch squares for drawing and de 
 signing. They were all finished by the end 
 of the week, squares painted on the tables 
 of the younger children for stick and bean- 
 laying, materials provided for bead-stringing, 
 chain-making, and peas work, and a motion- 
 
11G UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 play, " The Farmer," well under way. The 
 children learned this air and that of a Span 
 ish hymn with phenomenal quickness, and 
 sang them beautifully in two mornings, part 
 of them without any suggestion taking the 
 alto with perfect correctness. The English 
 words seemed difficult for them, however, 
 and the majority were very shy and self- 
 conscious about attempting to pronounce 
 them, Pedro Resales at first flatly declining 
 even to make the effort. 
 
 Dona Barbarita, as everybody called her, 
 went to school regularly every morning and 
 three afternoons of the first week, but the 
 second Monday Mary bravely started off 
 alone. It was Vicente s week to ring the 
 bell ; Faustino had accompanied him, loudly 
 protesting all the way that he was big 
 enough himself to do it once in a while, and 
 Lucina was writing a letter to her mother. 
 
 The weather had grown much colder the 
 past week, the ground was frozen hard, and 
 Mary shivered a little in her old jacket as 
 she tripped along, and wished her hat had 
 been a hood. The two Americans were the 
 only women in town who wore hats, and for 
 that reason, among others, Mary still drew 
 considerable attention in her walks abroad, 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 117 
 
 whole families sometimes flocking to the 
 doors to gaze at her. 
 
 Carmencita was waiting on the corner for 
 the beloved, her blue and white reboso 
 wrapped tightly about her shoulders and an 
 offering of pepitoria in her hand, molasses 
 candy this, made in sheets and dotted thickly 
 with pumpkin seeds. The beloved was not 
 at all too old to relish candy, and accepted 
 the tribute graciously, though indeed she 
 would have done this whatever it might 
 have been, for she was already too sincere 
 a child-lover to disdain any gift of affec 
 tion, however unlovely it might appear to 
 grown-up eyes. 
 
 The lofty, brick-floored school-room, boast 
 ing neither stove nor fireplace, was like an 
 ice-house all that morning, and Mary s hands 
 were too cold to hold a pen and her feet 
 almost without sensation. Some of the chil 
 dren looked blue and pinched, and the few 
 in calico gowns shook like leaves, but no 
 complaint was made, for it was only what 
 most of them would have endured had they 
 been at home, little preparation being made 
 for the brief winter in Sonora. 
 
 Mary, inwardly scoffing at Mr. Vazquez, 
 who had written her that Ceritas enjoyed a 
 
118 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 semi-tropical climate, sang and inarched and 
 clapped and danced about with the children 
 between lesson periods, and at recess took 
 the whole flock home to the Vazquez orchard, 
 where they ran races down the orange-tree 
 walks. None of these precautions, however, 
 availed the luckless teacher, who before after 
 noon felt herself in the clutches of one of 
 the worst of colds. It was a blue Monday, 
 take it altogether, for her greatest trials, 
 Lauro Martinez and Pedro Rosales, brought 
 long pieces of sugar-cane to school that after 
 noon, and the one running against the other 
 at recess and causing him to drop his sweet 
 meat in a puddle, high words and blows 
 ensued, and they rolled on the floor like 
 fighting bears. There is nothing remarkable 
 or to be dreaded in a scuffle between two 
 rough lads, perhaps, but Mary was little 
 used to boys ; they were deaf to her com 
 mands, and she feared for the effect upon 
 the younger children, who stood by open- 
 mouthed. At the end of her own resources 
 she dashed out and brought in Don Tiburcio 
 Ramirez de Aragon, who, with thunderous 
 waterfalls of Castilian reproach, separated 
 the combatants with well-aimed whacks upon 
 exposed portions of their plump bodies. 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 119 
 
 He retired, Miss Annesley called the 
 school to order, and then, no more to the 
 children s amazement than to her own, burst 
 incontinently into a flood of tears. A death 
 like silence reigned for a few moments, and 
 then Lucina in a fierce whisper addressed 
 the culprits as " Barbarians ! " which Car- 
 mencita followed up by " Shameless ones ! " 
 accompanied by angry glances; and Placido 
 Lopez, the largest boy in school, capped all 
 by growling in an undertone that he d teach 
 them better manners after school. 
 
 Fortunately home letters arrived that even 
 ing, though as they had been omitted from 
 the family package, which through the cour 
 tesy of Don Raimundo was always franked 
 through, they cost their recipient twenty- 
 five good cents apiece in Mexican postage. 
 
 "Here is a good piece of news, Mrs. 
 Vazquez," cried Mary. "Aunt Ellen has 
 sold the little vineyard on the foothills to 
 Mr. Hunter, the new neighbor. He s going 
 to try grape-raising, it seems. The place 
 was heavily mortgaged, but they sold it for 
 one hundred and fifty dollars more than the 
 indebtedness, and that will pay the most 
 pressing bills." 
 
 " I m very glad," said her hearer, cor- 
 
120 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 dially. " And is your aunt as well as 
 usual?" 
 
 " Yes, quite as well, and I have a lovely 
 letter from Celia and a pretty new handker 
 chief. See ! " holding it up. 
 
 "A handkerchief is all very well, but it 
 is a poor trifle compared with a husband," 
 laughed Dona Barbarita, " and Mr. Vazquez 
 will be here next week. Your godfather is 
 coming, Lucina," turning to the girl. 
 
 Mary lost what followed, for she had dis 
 covered letters from both Judge and Mrs. 
 Mason, as well as a note from Jack Martin 
 and a bundle of papers and magazines ad 
 dressed in his writing. The judge re 
 proached her for not having listened to his 
 advice and for her hasty departure, but was 
 delighted at her safe arrival and enjoined 
 her to call upon him always for any service 
 he could render. 
 
 Mrs. Mason wrote that she missed her un 
 speakably, that many people had called and 
 asked for Miss Annesley, who had made her 
 self such a general favorite, and said that 
 she and the judge should insist upon an 
 other visit from her in the spring or early 
 summer, before they went East to Rufus s 
 Commencement. 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 121 
 
 Jack s note, dated from the "Last 
 Chance " mines, ran as follows, rushing into 
 the subject-matter without any preface : 
 
 You thought it was a brilliant thing, did you 
 not, Miss Mary Annesley, to steal away from 
 Tontin the moment your male advisers and guar 
 dians had turned their backs. 
 
 [" Adviser and guardian indeed ! that 
 boy ! " thought Mary.] 
 
 I understand the sortie was a brilliant one 
 and that you have already captured the enemy s 
 camp, so as the absent are always wrong any 
 way, they say, I won t put myself more effect 
 ually in that position by complaining that it 
 was n t polite of you to set out without a word to 
 me. 
 
 [" Never thought of it," parenthesized the 
 reader.] 
 
 Since Tontin is not as attractive as it was a 
 fortnight ago, I sha n t leave the mines at present, 
 for I m gaining here decidedly, I think, though 
 the life is awfully rough. 
 
 If I keep on improving I shall go to town for 
 a few days by and by, and arrange then for a 
 horseback trip through the northern part of 
 Mexico early in the spring. I know it would do 
 me a lot of good, and it might be that Ceritas 
 
122 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 could be included in my itinerary. I am sending 
 you some papers and magazines to-day, and shall 
 continue to do so, that you may by ceaseless 
 tributes be sufficiently propitiated to welcome 
 me on my possible arrival. 
 
 With pleasantest memories of that wonderful 
 stage-ride of ours, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 JOHN MAXWELL MARTIN. 
 
 "Nice boy," thought Mary, patting the 
 letter. " I do hope he s getting well, but I 
 don t know, I don t know," pensively, 
 for her eyes were too sadly accustomed to 
 the sight of consumptives wintering in South 
 ern California to find much reason for hope 
 in Jack s appearance. 
 
 It was not Jack s letter, however, that 
 filled her thoughts that evening, nor occu 
 pied her the next morning as she walked 
 to school, for she was trying to familiarize 
 herself with the multiplication table in 
 Spanish, and to devise intricate problems to 
 write on the blackboard dealing with cakes 
 of panocha, with strings of Chili peppers, 
 and loads of adobe bricks. 
 
 Though the cold continued severe as the 
 days went by, it was never again so bad as 
 on that famous " blue Monday," and the 
 
A YOUTHFUL TEACHER 123 
 
 children, as they settled down to regular 
 work, were most of them amenable to disci 
 pline and delightfully interested in their 
 studies. They all called her " Mees Mari- 
 quita " now, in the endearing Spanish way, 
 and were surely, she thought, the most in 
 teresting human creatures that anybody ever 
 had to deal with. The greatest difference 
 she found between them and the children of 
 her own country was their extraordinary en 
 thusiasm and excitability. To restrain them 
 from answering a question whose answer 
 they knew was like trying to dam a moun 
 tain torrent. The boys jumped from their 
 seats into the aisles at any general interro 
 gation as if they had been shot from a can 
 non, beating their breasts and crying fran 
 tically, " I, I, Mees Mariquita, I know ! " 
 and even the more conventional girls threw 
 back their rebosos excitedly at such mo 
 ments, and waved their hands in air in wild 
 entreaty to be allowed to respond. 
 
 There was much trouble in reducing this 
 vivacity to orderly limits and it even caused 
 slight accidents sometimes, witness the 
 day when Vicente Mariscal, in his eagerness 
 to forestall Carmencita as to the product 
 of 12 X 10 X 3 X 20, jumped out of his 
 
124 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 seat so hurriedly as to upset his table, break 
 his ink-bottle, tip over his neighbor s chair 
 and send that unfortunate headlong into 
 the street through the open window. 
 
 Still the children were alive to their very 
 finger-tips, were thirsty for knowledge, and 
 in all their small rages against each other 
 and the height of their hasty tempers, never 
 turned a cold look upon, nor said a rude 
 word to their darling " Mees Mariquita," 
 already their beloved teacher and dearest 
 companion. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL. 
 
 " THERE, those are all clone," sighed 
 Mary, with a long breath of relief as she 
 added a nut she had been gilding to the 
 pile in a basket at her side. 
 
 " Then if you are not too fatigued, ma m- 
 selle, I should be glad of your help on these 
 candy-bags," cried Madame Lafleur quickly. 
 
 " I m not much of a seamstress, but I 11 
 try very hard, madame. Why, Lucina, 
 what s the matter?" 
 
 " How without manners is that Faus- 
 tino ! " cried the maiden addressed, rushing 
 to the window, her black braids streaming 
 in her wake like two tails of a comet. 
 " What shame thy mother would have, if 
 she could see thee, graceless one ! " 
 
 Mrs. Vazquez, Madame Lafleur, who had 
 come down from the mill to help, Mary, and 
 Lucina were all gathered in the great living- 
 room, making ornaments for the school 
 Christmas-tree. The two boys had been 
 
126 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 exiled from the busy scene, and in order 
 that the preparations might be kept quite 
 secret the lower shutters had been closed, 
 and the workers, turning their backs to the 
 light, had succeeded in making a living 
 screen of themselves. 
 
 The wily Faustino, however, had set all 
 these precautions at naught by stealing out 
 side and climbing softly up the window 
 bars, where from the very top of the open 
 ing his great black eyes gloated over the 
 bright worsteds, the colored papers, the bot 
 tles of gilding, the nuts and raisuis, and 
 the gay red and white American candies. 
 His lips had opened into an irrepressible 
 " O h ! " of admiration, and Lucina, catch 
 ing the sound, had flown to deal vengeance 
 upon him. He tried to scramble down be 
 fore she reached the window, but catching 
 his foot in the grating, hung there, uttering 
 howls of mingled fear, remorse, and rage. 
 
 " Why, Tino," cried Mrs. Vazquez, rising 
 hurriedly from her seat, " don t make such 
 a noise ! Oh, thank fortune, there s our 
 neighbor ; he must have come home last 
 night. Raimundo ! " she called, " do come 
 and get this child down, and if you re going 
 to ride can t you take him with you ? We 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 127 
 
 are busy with Christmas work and he has 
 been very troublesome to-day. How do you 
 do ? " reaching her hand through the grat 
 ings. " We are so glad to see you again." 
 
 " I am always very well, senora, and al 
 ways at your orders," answered Mr. Alta- 
 mirano, clattering up to the window. . . . 
 " Turn thy foot the other way and get down, 
 thou monkey ! " to Faustino. ..." And the 
 Senorita Annesley, is she in good health ? " 
 
 " Perfect, thank you. Come in and see us, 
 Raimundo. Emilio s at home, you know." 
 
 " No, is he? That is good news. I 11 be 
 in this evening probably. . . . Jump up, 
 little one, and behave thyself properly. . . . 
 I m going to Escabras, Barbarita, and may 
 not be home till dusk. Adios ! " 
 
 " Adios, amigo ! " waving her hand. " I m 
 afraid, Madame Lafleur, that Tino isn t 
 getting much of a punishment for his 
 naughty tricks," she said, smiling, as she 
 took her seat. " Both the boys are devoted 
 to Raimundo." 
 
 It was well that this holiday week was so 
 busy and so full of happenings, for as the 
 blessed Christmas Day drew near, Mary, 
 whenever she had time for thinking, plunged 
 into bitter waters of homesickness that en- 
 
128 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 gulfed her " eye-deep," as the Mexican say 
 ing is. She turned her thoughts resolutely 
 away from home, recited the multiplication 
 table in Spanish when she felt particularly 
 depressed, and scolded herself fiercely for 
 daring to be miserable when every one was 
 so good ; and yet the little red pillow, only 
 confidant of her woes, was often so damp 
 with her tears at night that it had to be 
 turned over before she could go to sleep. 
 
 She was really uncomfortable too, both at 
 school and at home, for the weather con 
 tinued cold, the ground was white with frost 
 each morning, and the water with which 
 Dona Juana sprinkled the courtyard froze 
 as it touched the bricks. It was as chilly 
 by night as by day, for nobody who has not 
 slept on a canvas-bottomed cot can appre 
 ciate how the wind whistles through it in 
 cold weather, especially when to get any air 
 at all it is necessary to leave open at least 
 nine square feet of shutter. 
 
 One night, remembering uncle Bertram s 
 stories of Maine logging camps, Mary wore 
 woolen stockings sprinkled with cayenne 
 pepper to bed, and certainly did not suffer 
 with cold feet on that occasion, whatever 
 her other woes may have been. 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 129 
 
 Mr. Vazquez, or Don Emilio, as Mary had 
 learned she might properly address him, had 
 returned several days before, and proved a 
 delightful addition to the little household. 
 He was a cultivated man, an admirable lin 
 guist, speaking English better in some re 
 spects than the two whose mother tongue it 
 was, and he appeared bent from the first in 
 making Miss Annesley equally proficient in 
 Castilian. The Knight of the Rueful Coun 
 tenance declared when he called, it is true, 
 pulling his pointed beard the while, that she 
 already spoke like an angel, but remember 
 ing that he was a young man and a Mexican, 
 and therefore doubly a courtier, the flattered 
 maiden accepted this compliment with several 
 grains of salt. 
 
 Don Emilio had entered heartily into the 
 plans for the Christmas-tree and school fes 
 tival, to be held at his house on the evening 
 of the twenty-third, and had invited all the 
 best people in town to be present, including 
 Padre Romero, the priest, and Mary s criti 
 cal acquaintance, old Don Alberto. 
 
 The school-children were so wildly ex 
 cited at the prospect, for Christmas gifts 
 are not common, nor Christmas-trees in use 
 in Mexico, that they resembled nothing so 
 
130 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 much as a spoonful of spilled quicksilver. 
 They had made their own preparations for 
 the occasion, the boys having indited elabo 
 rate letters to their parents to show their pro 
 gress in composition and penmanship, and 
 the girls having each fashioned some little 
 gift also. They had practiced until perfect 
 the motion-play of " The Farmer," pronoun 
 cing the words very nicely, had learned an 
 English and a Spanish hymn, and had also 
 become familiar with the English names of 
 a great many common objects, which know 
 ledge, though they were unconscious of the 
 fact, their proud teacher proposed to exhibit 
 at the festival. 
 
 At noon on the great day, while Mary and 
 Lucina were resting under the orange-trees, 
 a clatter of hoofs was heard in the zajnian, 
 
 O 
 
 and the Knight of the Rueful Countenance 
 came prancing into the courtyard, such a 
 gallant figure that both girls flew to the 
 orchard gate to gaze upon him with admir 
 ing eyes. He remarked, casually, that he 
 was on his way to the mill at Las Flores 
 to order some flour, and that he had come 
 to see if Barbarita had any messages for 
 Madame Lafleur. There is no reason to 
 doubt his veracity ; he may of course have 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 131 
 
 been going to the mill, though he seemed in 
 no hurry about it, and his costume appeared 
 much better calculated for a promenade in 
 the streets of a metropolis than for a dusty 
 country ride. 
 
 " Oh, what a beauty of a horse ! " cried 
 Mary, clapping her hands. " I have n t 
 seen one like him since I left home. What 
 is his name ? Will he let me give him some 
 panocha? " 
 
 " He is at your orders, senorita. His 
 name is Favorito, and he will be much hon 
 ored if you feed him," and Don Raimundo 
 dismounted and threw his bridle over the 
 cactus fence. 
 
 Mary came through the gate and held 
 out a handful of sugar to the satin-smooth, 
 fire-eyed creature, who lifted it daintily from 
 her palm with his velvet lips. 
 
 On a nearer view, it was difficult to tell 
 whether most to admire Favorito, his trap 
 pings, or his picturesque rider, and Mary 
 gave audible praise to the two former while 
 she honored their owner with a good many 
 sidelong glances under lowered lashes. The 
 knight himself was as pensive as ever, with 
 his golden-brown skin, soft dark eyes, droop 
 ing lids, and heavy brows, but King Sol- 
 
132 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 onion himself might well have been jeal 
 ous of his raiment. His short, graceful 
 riding-jacket was a mass of silver embroid 
 ery, his pearl-gray, steeple-crowned som 
 brero was bordered deep with silver braid 
 and adorned with a heavy-tasseled rope of 
 silver; his dark riding-trousers, widening 
 from thigh to ankle, were open down the 
 side seams and clasped across with tiny sil 
 ver shells, under which could be seen the 
 snowy folds of the " calzoncillo," or riding- 
 drawers, and around his waist was a wide, 
 curiously ornamented leather belt, into which 
 was thrust a silver-mounted pistol. Heavy 
 silver spurs jangled as he walked, and the 
 metal was repeated on Favorite s headstall 
 and reins, which were of pure silver filigree 
 work, with gold slides and mountings. 
 
 And the heavy Mexican saddle ! Ah, 
 that was a poem of ornamentation, though 
 none but a strong horse might support the 
 weight of its magnificence. It was of black 
 leather, the flaps and stirrup-hangings artis 
 tically stamped with flowers embroidered in 
 silver threads, the seat lined with silver, 
 and the high pommel of the precious metal 
 beautifully chased and engraved. The sur 
 cingle was of black and white horsehair 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 133 
 
 cunningly woven into a pattern, and the 
 rings through which the straps passed were 
 of shining silver also. 
 
 While Mary was still exclaiming over 
 these glories, Mr. Vazquez appeared in the 
 doorway. 
 
 " Ay, amigo ! " he cried. " What means 
 this grandeur ? Is it some saint s day that 
 we have all forgotten ? " 
 
 Don Raimundo swung himself into the 
 saddle, flushing a little under his dusky 
 skin. "I m going to Las Flores on an 
 errand, that s all," he said, whereupon Fa- 
 vorito began to stand on his hind legs, to 
 curvet and to prance in a way that showed 
 his rider s horsemanship to great advantage, 
 and indicated, also, that he had a soul above 
 errands, if his owner had not. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! " commented Mr. Vazquez 
 dryly ; " well, you d better start, or you 
 won t get back for the Christmas-tree. If 
 you meet a highway robber between here and 
 the mill, you can toss him one of those spurs. 
 It would buy him food for a week, you spend 
 thrift." 
 
 By seven o clock that evening the great 
 room where the tree was set was trimmed 
 
134 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 with boughs, the gallant horseman return 
 ing in time to assist in the decorations ; 
 Felices Pascuas (Merry Christmas) was 
 set in green letters between the windows, 
 and the tree itself was really a vision of 
 beauty, with its oranges, limes, cornballs, 
 gilded nuts, and candy-bags. 
 
 The shutters were kept closed until the 
 guests had all assembled, and then they 
 were thrown wide and the Christmas candles 
 were lighted. The priest was there, ap 
 parently not in the least troubled lest such 
 festivities should beguile his people into 
 Protestantism ; Don Alberto, white-haired, 
 brown, and wrinkled, sat in the corner, lean 
 ing on his stick ; Don Tiburcio Ramirez de 
 Aragon was there ; Sefior Bandini, an ar 
 dent patron of the school, sat in the front 
 row of chairs, with his six grown-up daugh 
 ters ; every mother, father, grandfather, 
 grandmother, aunt, uncle, sister, brother, 
 and cousin of each of the children was pre 
 sent, and crowning joy of all, for Lucina 
 at least, her mother sat beaming by the 
 window, having jogged down on horseback 
 from the ranch, in front of her brother, 
 Don Andres. 
 
 The room was much more than comfort- 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 135 
 
 ably filled with invited guests, the window 
 gratings outside hung full of curious people, 
 pressing their dark faces against the bars ; 
 the doors leading into the courtyard were so 
 crowded as to make it impossible to pass, 
 and after a half -hour tables and chairs were 
 brought into the street and men stood on 
 
 O 
 
 them, one above another, till the sea of 
 heads was like the rows in a theatre. 
 
 The children all looked well, though Lu- 
 cina, who was an undoubted beauty, was the 
 star of them all, and Mary s bosom swelled 
 with pride as she gazed upon the flock, 
 and rejoiced unspeakably that it was hers. 
 When the tree had been thoroughly ad- 
 inired, the exercises began, the children be 
 having like so many Chesterfields, and even 
 Pedro and Lauro delightfully smiling and 
 obedient. 
 
 First there was the Spanish hymn, the 
 entire school standing in a circle around the 
 tree and facing outward, and then the Eng 
 lish song was sung ; then, " The Farmer " 
 was played with perfect grace and abandon, 
 the older lads not disdaining in the least to 
 sow, to reap, to bind, and to winnow with 
 the little ones ; and then all were seated, and 
 Mary, with excited blue eyes and cheeks of 
 
136 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 deepest rose, took her pointer, a stick of 
 sugar-cane, in hand, and began an exercise 
 which was an entire surprise to the children. 
 She pointed to the tree, its lights, its orna 
 ments, the gifts which hung upon it, and 
 asked in English the name of each object. 
 Several children were able to answer in 
 every case, and frequently they all shouted 
 together with such vigor that the beams 
 shook above. 
 
 Vicente Mariscal, in his excitement, 
 danced about so like a dervish that Mary, 
 fearing he would set himself on fire at the 
 candles, was finally obliged to hold him down 
 with her left hand while she pointed with 
 the right. She asked other simple questions 
 sometimes, as to the shape and color and use 
 of the object, and the unfailing English an 
 swers brought the heartiest applause from 
 the audience, supplemented by an occasional 
 excited Viva ! which seemed to come from 
 Don Alberto s corner. 
 
 When this successful performance was 
 brought to a close, the children presented 
 the gifts they had made to their parents, 
 and then delightedly received their own 
 each pupil of the school being remembered 
 with a bag of candy, an orange, a cornball, 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 137 
 
 a cornucopia of nuts, and a bright picture. 
 All the children in the audience were given 
 a piece of American candy and an orange, 
 and Mary asked permission to hand through 
 the gratings to the crowd outside the popped 
 corn, nuts, and limes that remained. 
 
 Then the tree, shorn of all its glories, was 
 removed, and Mr. Vazquez made a brief 
 address, thanking the guests for their pre 
 sence, explaining the aims of the school, and 
 for the sake of Ceritas begging support for 
 this new enterprise which had already done 
 so much good to the children of the town. 
 
 Two guitars and a harp appeared at this 
 juncture, and the guests fell to dancing, but 
 Mary sank on a bench by the door, con 
 scious, at last, of overwhelming fatigue. 
 Carmencita flew to the charmed spot and 
 crouched on the floor at her feet, gazing up 
 into her face like a devotee at the image of 
 his saint, Lmcina held her hand, three or 
 four of the boys gathered around, and so 
 Don Raimundo found them when he came 
 to ask the favor of Senorita Annesley s hand 
 for a polka. 
 
 Seiiorita Annesley thanked him, but was 
 too tired to dance, she said, and so she was, 
 but she felt a trifle shy, too, of this hand- 
 
138 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 some young man who always looked as if he 
 had a secret sorrow, and seemed, compared 
 with Jack Martin, or any of the boys she had 
 ever known, so grave and reverend a sig- 
 nior. Raimundo was at that moment some 
 years short of thirty, and the sorrows whose 
 depths seemed to shadow his soft dark eyes 
 were entirely a product of the little maid s 
 imagination, but that, of course, she could 
 hardly know, and he always remained to 
 her the Knight of the Rueful Countenance. 
 The next day was a school holiday and 
 seemed a trifle dull after the festival, but 
 Mary found an excellent tonic for the blues 
 in exhaustive house-cleaning in her own and 
 Lucina s premises. Her room-mate assisted, 
 and they swept and dusted thoroughly, chat 
 tering volubly the while. There were no 
 windows to be washed and no way of decorat 
 ing the bags of beans, so the task was soon 
 over, and Mrs. Vazquez, coming in, suggested 
 making candy by way of celebration. Mary 
 flew to the kitchen for a pail to gather the 
 broken panocha on the storeroom shelves, 
 and tripping gayly along the stone walk, dis 
 covered just as she reached her door a large 
 and venerable scorpion in the bottom of the 
 vessel, eying her with an evil glance. The 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 139 
 
 pail immediately clanged on the stones, and 
 was accompanied by such a startled scream 
 that Don Emilio hurried to the rescue, com 
 fortably remarking as he disposed of the 
 reptile that she d get used to such things 
 before long. 
 
 The candy was made, however, in spite of 
 this interruption, and proved so good that 
 much of it was consumed after luncheon, 
 while Mr. Vazquez read them a Christmas 
 story of Francois Coppee s. 
 
 Upon this literary circle descended, after 
 an hour or so, a band of desperadoes, headed 
 by Placido Lopez, who took "Mees Mari- 
 quita " captive, and carried her off to haunts 
 among the hills. She had promised for a 
 week to take a walk with them, they said, 
 and this mild afternoon was just the time. 
 They wandered to the top of the high mesa 
 back of the town, and sitting on a heap of 
 stones, while the sun sank behind the Cerro 
 de la Ventana, Mary told them the sweet 
 Christmas story she had just heard, " Les 
 Sabots du petit Wolff." 
 
 Though the translation from French into 
 Spanish was doubtless as full of mistakes 
 as a pudding of plums, yet the children 
 were breathless and absorbed, and if Mary s 
 
140 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 forget-me-not eyes were veiled with mois 
 ture, when she told of the wondrous miracle 
 that rewarded Wolff s tender charity, you 
 may be sure that answering tears stood thick 
 in every dark eye in the group, while Car- 
 mencita crossed herself devoutly, and mur 
 mured, " Bendito sea Dios. ? 1 
 
 The story over, children and teacher ran 
 races down the hill, and coming breathless 
 home discovered, as a delightful close to the 
 excursion, that the weekly mail had come 
 in. 
 
 There was a huge two-story box for Mary, 
 which on being opened disclosed, above, a 
 wreath of real English holly, under which 
 were a dozen blue - jay s wings, carefully 
 stretched and cured, while in the lower com 
 partment was a heap of delicious sugar 
 plums and a card in Jack Martin s hand, 
 " Arizona to Mexico, Christinas Greeting." 
 
 Mary thought the writing looked rather 
 unsteady and hoped the boy was n t ill, but 
 couldn t help forgetting all about him as 
 she opened a large envelope and caught a 
 sudden view of Celia s photograph, taken 
 especially, so it said, for her Christmas pre 
 sent. 
 
 1 Blessed be God. 
 
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL 141 
 
 How lovely was the soft oval of that face, 
 how dear those long, dark eyes, how famil 
 iar the pose of the head, with its twisted 
 coronal of hair ! A sob came into Mary s 
 throat despite herself, as she dwelt on every 
 well-remembered outline of the gracious 
 figure, and glancing about to see that her 
 friends were equally absorbed with Christ 
 mas packages, she caught up a lantern and 
 fled to her own room, there to read her let 
 ters by its dim light, and to gaze upon the 
 beloved face in cold and homesick solitude. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THERE was a step on the stone-paved 
 walk outside Mary s bower, a tap at her 
 door, and Mr. Vazquez called, " Are you 
 ready, Miss Annesley ? We want to start 
 in a few minutes, or at least," half laughing-, 
 44 as soon as the usual search for Tino s hat 
 is made." 
 
 44 Ready ? " Mary repeated mechanically, 
 wrenched with a painful jerk from Glen 
 Ellen back to Ceritas, from tearful dream 
 ing to present duty. 4 Ready ? why, for 
 what ? Where are we going ? " 
 
 Yet as Mr. Vazquez s steps were heard 
 retreating, she remembered that the whole 
 family had been invited to Senora Garcia s, 
 Lucina s relative with whom her mother was 
 staying, to celebrate the 44 Good Night " and 
 to taste the native dishes peculiar to the 
 season. 
 
 She flew to dress and to bathe her swollen 
 
 1 Christmas eve ; literally, the Good Night. 
 
LA NOCHE BUENA 143 
 
 eyes, and made such good speed that the 
 cook had only just been dismissed for the 
 night, and Tino s hat been found in the 
 store room, near the panocha shelf, when 
 she made her appearance, brave in the best 
 of her made-over gowns. 
 
 Mrs. Vazquez noted at once the tell-tale 
 eyes and pale cheeks of her charge, and 
 took her hand with a warm grasp, keeping it 
 under her arm with a comforting pat now 
 and then until they reached the Garcias 
 door and entered the brightly lighted room, 
 its shutters all fast closed against the too 
 interested populace. 
 
 " Feliz noche buena ! " [Happy Christ 
 mas eve !] everybody cried as the party en 
 tered, and everybody seemed exceedingly gay 
 and merry, for the eve is more celebrated 
 than the day itself in Spanish countries. 
 
 Doiia Rosita, Lucina s mother, had helped 
 to prepare the dainties, all of which were 
 unfamiliar to Mary, except the frijoles and 
 tortillas, invariable accompaniment of every 
 meal in Mexico. 
 
 There were tamales first, chicken, corn- 
 meal, and a sprinkle of chili pepper carefully 
 mixed together and prettily rolled in a series 
 of corn-husks from which they issued steam 
 ing hot. 
 
144 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 There were buiiuelos, thin cakes fried 
 crisp, and eaten with hot syrup of panocha, 
 and particularly associated with the season, 
 it seemed; and there were enchiladas also, 
 wonderful compounds of cheese, sardines, 
 olives, and red pepper, the seasoning being 
 so liberally supplied that the little Ameri 
 can gasped like a fish out of water, and was 
 forced to decline, for a while, the other 
 dainties pressed upon her. 
 
 She recovered, luckily, in time to partake 
 of pepitoria, the molasses candy sprinkled 
 with pumpkin seeds, which she always en 
 joyed, and also of cubiertos, sweetmeats made 
 from the thick flesh of the bisnaga, or barrel 
 cactus. These last were particularly tooth 
 some, tasting rather like crystallized fruit, 
 with some delicious foreign difference. Later 
 on in the evening, between the songs and 
 the stories, chocolate was served, frothed 
 high with a wooden instrument which was 
 cunningly ridged and notched so as to pro 
 duce mountains of foam as it whirled swiftly 
 around in experienced hands. 
 
 "Ah, Miss Annesley," sighed Don Emi- 
 lio, as he sipped his chocolate, " I wish we 
 could show you the Pastores, the Christ 
 mas plays we used to have in the larger 
 
A BAKER S BOY 
 
LA NOG HE BUENA 145 
 
 towns when I was a child. Do you remem 
 ber, Kosita," turning to Mrs. Mariscal, " the 
 grand Pastores thy father took us to see 
 in Ures once ? " 
 
 " Remember ! " said Dona Eosita pen 
 sively, " I was n t more than six years old, 
 but I remember every word and every song. 
 What delight it was and how excited we 
 were ! " 
 
 " Tell about it, mamacita," cried Lucina, 
 leaning on her mother s shoulder ; " thou 
 hast not told us for ages." 
 
 " Let thy godfather tell thee, little daugh 
 ter ; he was there, and he is more wonted to 
 speaking in company than a ranchera like 
 me." 
 
 " Oh, tell us, nino ! " [godfather] begged 
 Lucina, and " Do tell them, Emilio," said 
 Mrs. Vazquez. 
 
 The rest of the company joining in the 
 entreaty, Mr. Vazquez leaned back in his 
 chair, and with reflective gaze at the leap 
 ing fire began his reminiscences in a rapid 
 flow of Castilian which Mary proudly felt 
 was now perfectly intelligible to her. 
 
 " If thou wert only six years old, Rosita, 
 it must have been the year after thy good 
 mother left us." 
 
14G UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Blessed be her soul ! " cried Mrs. Ma- 
 riscal, fervently crossing herself. 
 
 " liosita and I were brought up together, 
 you know, Miss Mary, for my parents died 
 when I was a baby and they took me under 
 their wing at Bacanuchi, the family ranch 
 Lucina has told you of so often. Rosita s 
 father was making a week s visit that season 
 at a great estate near Ures, and had taken 
 us with him, two little motherless creatures 
 as we were. 
 
 " Early on the day before Christmas the 
 ladies and children of the family, a merry 
 company, all laughing and chattering and 
 singing, were packed into a gayly decorated 
 ox-cart, and we set off to town. 
 
 " Do you remember how grand our cart 
 was, Rosita ? We thought it was the finest 
 of all, and we had good reason. It was 
 canopied with a silken bedspread, embroid 
 ered with bright flowers, children, and the 
 fringe was so deep that it hung over the lace 
 curtains underneath and reached the axles. 
 
 " Thy grandfather, boys, rode alongside 
 as escort, with all the other gentlemen, and 
 what joy thou wouldst have had in their 
 horses, Vicente, for people took care to 
 choose the best of all their herds for the 
 
LA NOCHE BUENA 147 
 
 Christmas Fiestas. We seldom see such 
 animals nowadays, more s the pity, for the 
 breed has run down very much, especially 
 here in the north. 
 
 "Well, the whole road that day, I re 
 member, was crowded with decorated carts, 
 prancing horses, bright silver trappings, and 
 splendid riders, and as the carts passed each 
 other, ladies and children parted the dra 
 peries, smiling and waving hands, and calling 
 out holiday greetings. 
 
 " Fortunately for us little ones we reached 
 town early enough to see all the prepara 
 tions for the Pastores, and, another piece 
 of great luck, we found that the play was to 
 be given in the courtyard of the very house 
 we were to visit. 
 
 " When we drove in, Indians were unload 
 ing carts full of willow branches and tule, 
 the walls were being decorated, booths put 
 in place for the sale of fruit and sweetmeats 
 and tamales, men were fighting for choice 
 locations, shouting orders and calling to and 
 fro, and in a few places, where the stalls 
 were finished, the proprietors were singing 
 and twanging their guitars. To add to the 
 delightful noise and confusion, some Yaquis, 
 who had already partaken of too much 
 
148 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Christmas cheer, were droning their weird 
 chants over in the orchard, and Rosa and 
 I were so fascinated by all the proceedings 
 that we could not be kept at the dinner- 
 table, and had to be dragged to supper by 
 main force." 
 
 " Thou wert screaming and kicking in 
 my father s arms all the way to the dining- 
 room. I can see thee now," laughed Mrs. 
 Mariscal. 
 
 " I dare say I was, and very badly trained 
 they must have thought me ; but when it 
 grew dark, and we were sent into the court 
 yard again, and the actors plunged candle- 
 wicks into bowls of melted tallow and set 
 them here and there on the adobe walls, 
 then the scene was like veritable fairy land. 
 
 " 4 Los Pastores (the shepherds) was a 
 kind of sacred drama performed by strolling 
 players, you know," turning to Mary, " the 
 same sort of thing, I suppose, that they used 
 to call a 4 Mystery in early English days, 
 and very like the performances that the 
 Christinas mummers still give in some parts 
 of Austria and Germany." 
 
 "Was it something like the Passion 
 Play ? " asked Mary. 
 
 " Yes, so far as it represented sacred his- 
 
LA NOCHE BUENA 149 
 
 tory, but of course it was an extremely 
 simple thing, in three brief scenes, with 
 quaint, traditional words and music. The 
 principal characters, as I remember them, 
 were the Archangel Michael, the devil, a 
 chorus of shepherds, and Bartolo, a clumsy, 
 clown-like fellow, who supplied the humor 
 of the drama. 
 
 " When the guests were all seated and as 
 many of the Indians and dependents had 
 crowded in as could be packed into the 
 space, the play began. 
 
 " The first scene showed the shepherds 
 watching their flocks by night, and very 
 pretty and realistic it was in that dim light, 
 with the stars for a roof ; in the second, the 
 archangel, an impressive, white-robed figure, 
 entered, and announcing the birth of Christ, 
 commanded the shepherds to visit the manger 
 and fall before him in adoration. 
 
 " Just at this point the devil leaped into 
 sight, and he really was so horrible with his 
 tail and hoofs and horns, in the half-light 
 of the flickering torches, that Rosita there 
 screamed and hid her head on her father s 
 shoulder as if she thought His Majesty was 
 going to carry her off." 
 
 " Yes, and if you remember, Emilio," 
 
150 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 cried Mrs. Mariscal, " some of the Yaquis 
 were so terrified that they scrambled over 
 the wall, calling on the saints with all their 
 might, and they could not be coaxed near 
 the house till next day." 
 
 " It didn t have that effect on me," 
 laughed Don Emilio. " I d have given 
 everything I had in the world to play that 
 part and stamp about the courtyard with 
 those cloven hoofs." 
 
 * Well, in the second scene the devil does 
 his utmost to dissuade the shepherds from 
 journeying to worship the new-born Babe, 
 and the lazy Bartolo lies there on his sheep 
 skin, cracking jokes, ridiculing his com 
 rades, and making a very efficient devil s 
 aid. But you need not suppose there was 
 any irreverence about the play ; it was all 
 done very simply and seriously, and cer 
 tainly made a great impression on two little 
 ones, I know, is it not so, Rosita ? 
 
 " The last scene opened in the stable at 
 Bethlehem, the Holy Family being invisible 
 and supposed to be sleeping in the darkness 
 at the back of the cave. 
 
 " The shepherds press toward the en 
 trance, and the devil, standing in front of 
 them, is barring their passage with out- 
 
LA NOCHE BUENA 151 
 
 stretched arms, when the shining white arch 
 angel rushes in with drawn sword, and chal 
 lenges the fiend to mortal combat." 
 
 " What a splendid scene ! " cried Mary, 
 while the boys and Lucina leaned forward 
 with dilated eyes and parted lips. 
 
 " It certainly was very impressive, and I 
 wish you could have seen the wild enthusi 
 asm among the spectators ; many of them 
 standing up in their chairs, some rising to 
 their feet and pressing toward the front, 
 others clutching their neighbors hands, and 
 actually sobbing in their excitement. 
 
 " And then you should have heard the 
 clamors of 4 Viva ! and thunders of ap 
 plause when the devil was vanquished at 
 last, and in the midst of a kneeling group 
 of shepherds Michael set his foot upon the 
 writhing body of his enemy and waved his 
 shining sword in air." 
 
 44 Splendid ! " exclaimed Mrs. Vazquez ; 
 " and it must have been very well played, 
 too, when it impressed a little boy so much. 
 . . . But hark, what is that ? Why, listen 
 to the bells and look at these children, and 
 Mariquita too, up till midnight and going to 
 4 La Misa del Gallo at four in the morning ! " 
 
 There was a chorus of exclamations, 
 
152 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 wraps were hastily sought, good-nights said, 
 and the little company went out into the 
 quiet streets, the boys Mary s escort on 
 either hand. The bells were ringing, ring 
 ing, ringing, rocking their towers in an ec 
 stasy of joy over the " Good Night," peal 
 ing out with the splendid strength of their 
 iron voices over and over again their glori 
 ous message : 
 
 " The Christ is born ! the Lord has come 
 Good-will on earth to bring." 
 
 " Listen to the bells, Mary," cried Mrs. 
 Vazquez. "What a rapture there is in every 
 one of them ! And hear the cock crowing 
 far in the distance ! He is calling, Cristo 
 nacio ! [Christ is born ! ] you know, so the 
 Spanish saying is, and that s why the mass 
 on Christmas morning is called La Misa 
 del Gallo, for the cocks are all awake then 
 and pealing out the story." 
 
 " And the cattle too, Mees Meh-ree, they 
 know," said Lucina softly, pressing to her 
 side ; " they all kneel to Babe Jesus as soon 
 as the midnight bells ring." 
 
 "Little Bethlehem, sacred Bethlehem, 
 looked very much as Ceritas does now, on 
 the night of Christ s birth, children," said 
 
LA NOCHE BUENA 153 
 
 Mr. Vazquez gravely. " I walked its dark 
 streets one winter evening and thought of 
 my native village as I passed the low, flat- 
 roofed houses. It was on just such a night 
 of stars, too," looking up to their dazzling 
 brightness, " that the angel of the Lord 
 came to the shepherds and the glory of the 
 Lord shone round about them." 
 
 There was a reverent stillness in the 
 group, as " that solemn midnight centuries 
 ago " was thus brought so close to fancy, 
 and not a word was spoken until Mrs. 
 Vazquez began to sing in an undertone, 
 
 " little town of Bethlehem, 
 How still we see thee lie ! " 
 
 Mary joined her fresh young voice to the 
 melody, and as she threw herself on her cot 
 to rest before " La Misa del Gallo," as pre 
 sently bands of people, all singing, began to 
 stream by her grated windows, as by and by 
 she listened in the crowded church to the 
 impressive service, she seemed to hear no 
 foreign language, but over and over again, 
 in her own home-tongue, just these words : 
 
 " Yet in thy dark streets shineth 
 
 The Everlasting Light, 
 The hopes and fears of all the years 
 Are met in thee to-night." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE COMING OF SPRING. 
 
 SPRING was wandering through Sonora, 
 and at the kiss of her soft feet the grass- 
 blades all began to peep, and leaves and 
 blossoms everywhere unfolded as her rosy 
 fingers touched them. The first week of 
 March had barely opened, yet here was 
 Mary writing letters in the orchard under 
 orange-trees that were bowers of fragrant 
 bloom, while on a chair at her side sat two 
 fat brown jugs, one holding a spray of 
 deepest pink almond blossoms, the other a 
 branch of white lilies with long golden 
 stamens. 
 
 The letters were important ones, for they 
 were to Glen Ellen, and the weekly mail 
 was to leave next morning ; yet the pen 
 often halted as the rosy scribe leaned over 
 to take long breaths of the flowers, or lifted 
 her eyes to the Cerro de la Ventana, whose 
 deep caiions were filled with the soft blue 
 haze of afternoon. 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 155 
 
 Three months teaching had certainly not 
 impaired Miss Annesley s health, if one 
 might judge from appearances, though every 
 Friday night during that time she had de 
 clared herself worn to the bone and her wits 
 absolutely threadbare. The school had thus 
 far seemed to give perfect satisfaction to 
 everybody concerned, one patron declaring 
 to Mrs. Vazquez that whatever the teacher 
 had of youth, she had also of beauty and 
 goodness, and that the sum total was above 
 improvement. 
 
 Mary herself knew her work to be full 
 of defects, and worried more than any one 
 knew over the lazy Pedro, who would not 
 study, over restless Faustino, who was as slip 
 pery as wet soap, and over Teresa Caraveo, 
 who, diligent as she was, seemed utterly im 
 pervious to new ideas. Still in spite of these 
 drawbacks, the work interested her intensely, 
 and most of the children were so bright and 
 so studious that encouraging progress had 
 really been made in every direction. 
 
 She had good cause to be thankful for 
 her mercies, thought the little maid that 
 sunny afternoon, for news from home con 
 tinued good, the latest items being that 
 Celia had just decorated an entire house for 
 
156 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 a child s birthday party, and that the new 
 neighbor, Mr. Hunter, had rented all the 
 barns and outbuildings at Glen Ellen for 
 his numerous horses, vehicles, long-pedigreed 
 cows, and fancy fowls. 
 
 He is really very kind and attentive, [wrote 
 Celia,] comes in two or three times a week to 
 play to mother (he has a genuine Stradiva- 
 rius and its price is above rubies), and he s alto 
 gether considered to be a great addition to 
 Corona society. He wants mother to see a new 
 physician, a friend of his in Los Angeles, and 
 perhaps she will consent. He is very much in 
 terested in you, by the way, and sends you his 
 admiring regards. 
 
 It was this letter of Celia s which Mayy 
 was answering this afternoon, and as her 
 eyes rested on Mr. Hunter s message, she 
 sniffed rather contemptuously and said 
 something quite unjustifiable about intru 
 sive, meddlesome people, who thought they 
 could set the whole world right because they 
 came from Boston. It was pure jealousy, 
 it must be confessed, that prompted the 
 sniff and the undeserved epithets, for the 
 loving, impetuous girl could hardly endure 
 that any one should be near her dear ones, 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 157 
 
 while she was so far away, and she gloried 
 in every hardship she had to bear, because 
 a pain the more for her in Mexico meant 
 one the less for the tired heart in California 
 that had suffered so much. 
 
 She had enough grace, however, to be 
 ashamed of her jealousy, and she stopped 
 a moment just here to wrestle with the 
 demon. 
 
 " You wretch," she cried to herself, " how 
 can you be so mean as to grudge poor aunt 
 Ellen and Celia any help and comfort they 
 can get. It s little enough they ve had 
 lately, and you ought to be glad there s 
 somebody near by, who is interested in them. 
 Pull yourself together now and send a nice 
 message to Mr. Hunter as a penance." 
 
 The quill scratched and the paper rustled 
 as the letter began again, . . . 
 
 Do insist, Celia, upon aunt Ellen s seeing the 
 Los Angeles doctor at once. . She 11 put it off, 
 I know, on account of the expense, but I met 
 the egg-merchant to-day and he says he s going 
 up to Tontin Friday, and will take some money 
 for me. I can send thirty dollars as well as not, 
 though all the children haven t paid for last 
 month yet, for I don t need to spend a penny 
 here. 
 
158 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Is n t it dreadful there is such a loss on chan 
 ging Mexican into United States money? The 
 first time I sent any, and the egg-merchant told 
 me when he came back that I d lost ten dollars 
 out of my precious hundred, I just went away 
 and cried, for I knew there would n t be enough 
 then to pay Mr. Gardiner what we had to borrow 
 for my journey. I never realized before that 
 the shakiness of a government had anything to 
 do with the value of money, though I s pose I 
 must have learned something about it at school. 
 I hope there 11 be peace, on that account at least, 
 while I m teaching here. 
 
 Oh, that reminds me, Celia, and I m sure I 
 don t know why, that I had the most charm 
 ing serenade last night and one the week before. 
 I suppose they were for me, because the Alta- 
 mirano house is next door on one side, an old 
 widower s on the other, and across the way lives 
 a fat washerwoman with five small children. 
 That narrows the thing down, you see, so you 
 need n t accuse me of conceit. 
 
 Well, I 11 tell you privately, and you need n t 
 read this part to auntie, I d been just a little 
 weenty bit homesick all day and had given 
 Lucina her special arithmetic lesson and gone to 
 bed early. I did n t sleep very well and woke 
 up by and by, and lay there staring through my 
 iron gratings, when I heard a few chords from a 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 
 
 159 
 
 harp and guitar dropped into the stillness, and 
 then a man began singing, " Buenas noches, 
 buenas noches, dueiia amada." 
 
 I ve scratched down the words and notes here, 
 and perhaps you d like to try it. 
 
 1. Bue - nas 
 
 2. Yo te 
 
 no - ches, bue - nas 
 ju - ro, yo te 
 
 vo- 
 
 
 -1 
 
 
 * j I 
 
 if?* J J 
 
 
 3 - 
 
 1 
 
 ^ 
 
 saz 
 
 J 
 
 .5? J 
 
 
 J 1 
 
 tJ v 7 9 
 no -ches due - fia a - ma - da! 
 ju - ro que te a - do - ro, 
 
 9 
 Yo te 
 Y me 
 
 -1 I- 
 
 
 ven- go, yo te ven - go, a vi - si - 
 mue - ro, y me niue - ro por tus o 
 
 
 tar, No me pue - do, no me pue - do so - se- 
 jos, Sf, el al - ma, si, el al - ma ten - go 
 
 gar, ... Si no es - tan - do, si no es 
 
 tris - te, Des - de el pun - to, des - de el 
 
160 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 F==l= 
 
 . 
 
 tan - <lo jun-to a ti. 
 pun - to quo te vi. 
 
 _^__0_ 
 
 Bue - nas 
 
 Bue - nas 
 
 no - ches, bue - nas no - ches,due - fia a - ina 
 
 EjgE 
 
 
 
 da, Y a - cuer-da, y a - cuer-da - te 
 
 
 de . 
 
 ml ! Bue - nas no - ches, bue - nas 
 
 
 no - cues due - fia a-ma - da, Y a - 
 
 
 cuer - da, y a - cuer - da - te de mi ! Y a - 
 
 cuer-da y a - cuer- da - te de mi. 
 
 Oh, it was sweet, but I did n t dare get up 
 and look out, for both my upper shutters were 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 161 
 
 open and I d have been seen. Maybe t was 
 for the \vash-lady after all. I shall never know, 
 probably, but I kind o sort o think it was for 
 me. 
 
 Don Emilio says, by the way, that my Spanish 
 is improving wonderfully, and that I do him 
 great credit, and I m forced to believe him, for I 
 never knew anybody so critical in my life, nor 
 so frank in speaking his mind. 
 
 You ask about our daily fare. Well, it s sim 
 ple and lacks that variety that used to distinguish 
 the Glen Ellen table when I catered for it, but it 
 seems to agree with me. Breakfast is broiled 
 beef or mutton, queer, long, misshapen pieces, 
 for they sell it by the yard here, f rijoles, bread, 
 and coffee. There s no butter, you know, they 
 don t make it in Ceritas. 
 
 Luncheon is stewed quinces, and bread and 
 milk, and dinner is broiled meat again, beans, 
 bread or tortillas and sometimes potatoes, on 
 very great occasions. 
 
 This menu is for every day, remember, and 
 always, for there s nothing else to be had, though 
 sometimes, " just for a change," as aunt Easter 
 used to say, we have meat and beans instead of 
 beans and meat. 
 
 Yes, the sun is already getting very hot, and 
 Vicente has given me one of his broad-brimmed 
 straw hats to wear to school. I ve wound that 
 
162 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 red Japanese silk scarf of yours around it, and 
 it makes me look either like a crazy Jane, or an 
 opera singer, I can t decide which. I ve had 
 m y g ra y delaine school-dress washed, and it s 
 nice and clean now, though of a length better 
 adapted to mountain climbing than to the lecture 
 platform. 
 
 Oh, you know I told you that Sefior Alta- 
 mirano was teaching me to play the guitar, and 
 he has just insisted on giving me his mother s. 
 It s a perfect beauty, and I did n t think I ought 
 to accept it, but he says it is never touched, and 
 I m doing him a chanty in taking care of it. 
 I ve learned accompaniments in one key already, 
 and you can t think what a comfort it is ! The 
 Don is very kind to me when he s at home, 
 though I can t help thinking of my first name 
 for him the Knight of the Rueful Counte 
 nance whenever I see him, for he always looks 
 as if something was " preying on his damask 
 cheek." 
 
 I had to leave off here and go in to dinner, 
 and the children want me now, so good-night, 
 dear, precious, darling princess. A thousand 
 loves to the house-mother, and, see, here s a 
 round kiss for each one of you from your adoring 
 
 MAKIQUITA. 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 163 
 
 P. S. Return my regards to Mr. Hunter in 
 place of his own, and thank him for being so 
 good to you. 
 
 " Praised be the saints, it is finished at 
 last, Mees Meh-ree," sighed Vicente from 
 his perch on the gate, as the closely writ 
 ten sheets were tucked into their envelope. 
 " Now will you tell us about that so sim- 
 patica princess that made her husband out 
 of almonds and sugar ? " 
 
 " Ah, yes, Mees Meh-ree of my heart ! " 
 pleaded Faustino, appearing unexpectedly 
 at her elbow. 
 
 " Oh, is Mees Mariquita going to tell 
 a story?" cried Lucina, running breathless 
 across the courtyard. " Come in, Carmen- 
 icita what are you hiding there in the 
 zaguan for?" 
 
 Carmen glided softly in, her blue reboso 
 wrapped tightly about her head, and took her 
 accustomed position at the feet of the loved 
 one. She always moved like a disembodied 
 spirit, this dusky little maiden, and Mary 
 was often startled when she looked up from 
 her work at home, to find the child quietly 
 seated on the floor, her soft brown eyes 
 patiently fixed on the beloved teacher. 
 
164 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 The story-teller pulled her white shawl 
 about her shoulders, ran her fingers through 
 her curly locks as she wondered what would 
 be a good Spanish equivalent for " Once 
 upon a time," and began the marvelous his 
 tory of " Perlino." 
 
 The too - confiding hero had just been 
 dragged from the clutches of the Lady of 
 the Chinking Guineas, and, safely mounted 
 behind his beloved, was clattering over the 
 drawbridge of the enchanted castle, when 
 deep voices were heard in the courtyard and 
 two gentlemen leaned on the orchard gate. 
 
 " What an adoring audience you have, 
 Miss Mary ! " laughed Mr. Vazquez. " Ay, 
 Raimundo," with a mischievous glance at 
 his friend, " Si hay nieve en el llano, como 
 estara en la sierra, eh ? " 1 
 
 Seiior Altamirano made no answer to this 
 embarrassing application of a popular say 
 ing, but opening the gate as if it were un 
 heard, asked in his courtly way, 
 
 " Will the seiiorita be pleased to have a 
 music lesson this evening ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, sir, thank you, with great plea 
 sure. Vicente, will you get the guitar, and 
 
 1 If there s snow on the plain, how must it be on the 
 mountain ? 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 165 
 
 be very careful with it, querido, as you cross 
 the courtyard. No, no, Faustino," with a 
 detaining hand, " you re too little." 
 
 The lad brought the instrument quickly, 
 stepping cautiously over the stones like a cat 
 afraid of wetting her feet, and Mr. and Mrs. 
 Vazquez and the children strolled off down 
 the garden paths. 
 
 It was a beautiful guitar, indeed, and 
 Mary had sent to Tontin for ribbons to 
 decorate it, choosing red, white, and green, 
 the Mexican colors, in compliment to the 
 donor. She had been writing to Jack Mar 
 tin the day she received it, acknowledging 
 some of the many books which arrived with 
 unfailing regularity, and had commissioned 
 him to select the ribbons for her the next 
 time he went to town. They had come after 
 a little delay, and fastened to one of them 
 was a finely wrought silver eagle standing 
 on a cactus-stalk, the emblem that always 
 appears on the Mexican flag. " Like his ex 
 travagance," thought Mary ; " he must have 
 ordered it in San Francisco. They never 
 would have such a thing in Tontin." 
 
 " Did I ever tell you where the guitar 
 was made, senorita? " asked Don Raimundo, 
 as he tested the strings and turned the ivory 
 pegs. 
 
166 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " No, sir ; will you be so kind as to do 
 so?" -She spoke politely, very politely 
 always, to the K. of II. C. 
 
 " My mother was native of a village near 
 Guadalajara, as I think I told you, and close 
 to her birthplace had always lived a tribe 
 of Indians, peaceful, industrious people, all 
 Christians. The chief was a great musician 
 in his own wild way, and an adept at making 
 guitars. You had only to tell him about 
 what you were willing to pay for an instru 
 ment and he would make it exactly as de 
 sired. His guitars were noted all over the 
 country for their beautiful tone, and my 
 mother said he once told her that he always 
 selected the wood from the trees where the 
 mocking-birds sang." 
 
 " A pretty idea," said Mary, idly watch 
 ing the brown fingers wander over the 
 strings. 
 
 " The Indians have many poetic thoughts, 
 senorita. 
 
 " He had always admired my mother s 
 voice, it seemed, she sang like a wood- 
 dove calling in the spring, and on one of 
 her saints days he brought her this guitar. 
 
 " 4 Take it, Margarita, he said, t it is for 
 thee ; it is made of wood where the birds 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 167 
 
 have nested, and the elders of the tribe 
 have blessed it. It will bring happiness to 
 every woman s hand that touches it. " . . . 
 Here came a few soft chords on the vibrant 
 strings. ..." May his prophecy be a true 
 one for you, too, senorita ! My blessed mo 
 ther was a happy woman while she lived." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Mary shyly, for 
 she was touched by the story and scarcely 
 knew what to say in comment. 
 
 There was silence for a moment, and then 
 Senor Altamirano broke from his reverie 
 with a start. 
 
 " Shall I teach you a new accompaniment 
 to-night ? " he asked. 
 
 " If you please," said Mary, and she was 
 soon deep in the chords of D Major, and 
 complaining about the leaps and bounds 
 and strained position of fingers required to 
 execute it properly. 
 
 The lesson was over, and she was finding 
 an accompaniment to " La Chinaca " 1 under 
 Eaimundo s direction, when the family re 
 turned. 
 
 " Sing it louder, Mary," said Mrs. Vaz- 
 
 1 A Mexican patriotic song composed at the time when 
 effort was being made to establish Maximilian as Em 
 peror of Mexico. 
 
168 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 quez from the door, " and we 11 join in the 
 refrain." 
 
 " Yo soy una ehinaquita," warbled Mary 
 gayly in answer, surrendering the accompani 
 ment to Raimundo, and executing her solos 
 with so much patriotic fervor that the boys 
 were electrified, and danced and stamped 
 and shouted " Viva ! " as each chorus was 
 ended. 
 
 " Come in, Raimundo, and sing to us," 
 called Mr. Vazquez, appearing in the door 
 way with his cigarrito ; " it s too t cold in 
 the orchard for Miss Annesley any longer, 
 and you have n t sung here for months." 
 
 " Oh, I m so sorry, Senor Altamirano," 
 cried Mary. " I never heard you sing and 
 I d like to so much, but I have some school 
 work to do for to-morrow and I shall have 
 to set about it this minute. I had no idea 
 it was so late. Good-night, Mrs. Vazquez, 
 dear. Buenas noches, everybody ! " 
 
 " Buenas noches ! " came in chorus from 
 house and garden, and, portfolio and flowers 
 in hand, Mary tripped across the stones to 
 her room. 
 
 The singing began as she opened her door, 
 and a sweet baritone voice floated in with 
 the odor of the orange blossoms. 
 
THE COMING OF SPRING 169 
 
 " H-m, h-m," said the little maid reflec 
 tively, as she lighted her lantern and took 
 up her exercise-books. " There s something 
 very familiar about that. Never heard Don 
 Raimundo sing, did I? Well, if his was 
 not the voice of that serenader the other 
 night, he must have a twin brother." 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 RUMORS OF WAR. 
 
 " LUCINA ! " called Mary one night in late 
 March, sitting up in bed, her teeth chatter 
 ing with fright, " Lu-ci-na ! what is that 
 dreadful noise ? " 
 
 Sleepy sighs from the other side of the 
 curtain, and confused murmur of " Borra- 
 chos." 
 
 " No, it is n t drunkards. Lucina, wake 
 up ! ! It s been going on for a long time. 
 . . . Hark, there s a pistol shot ! Oh dear, 
 what can be the matter ? " 
 
 Bang, bang, crash, bang, went a fusillade 
 of shots, followed by loud cries and shouts, 
 and in the confusion a white figure darted 
 under the curtain and Lucina flew into 
 Mary s cot. 
 
 " Oh, Mees Meh-ree," she shivered, " per 
 haps it s another revolution, you know 
 what my godfather said last night. . . . 
 Ay! de mi! blessed be the saints, what 
 is that ? " 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 171 
 
 There was a clatter of hoofs on the stone- 
 paved street, and with fierce yells of " Viva " 
 somebody, a body of mounted men galloped 
 past. 
 
 " We shall all be murdered in our beds," 
 trembled Lucina, beginning to cry. 
 
 "Nonsense," said Mary, cooling a little 
 as the other s excitement increased. " We 
 have nothing to do with either side, and what 
 would they get by killing us ? It s a little 
 quieter now. Oh, see that red light ! There 
 must be a bonfire in the plaza. How can 
 Don Emilio sleep through all this? " 
 
 " Perhaps he is n t asleep," whispered Lu 
 cina, her lips close to Mary s ear ; " but it 
 would not be good for him to put his head 
 into the street, for they d arrest him in a 
 minute and drag him off to jail." 
 
 "What for?" in wide-eyed wonder. 
 
 " There is n t any what for in revolu 
 tions, so my father used to say. They know 
 he has money, and no matter which side he 
 belonged to, they d find some reason to throw 
 him into jail and make him pay to get out. 
 . . . Do you dare to run to the window and 
 see what they re doing ? " 
 
 " Dare ? not I ! A stray shot might come 
 through the gratings. A h ! is somebody 
 being killed?" 
 
172 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Lucina clutched Mary s shoulder, and both 
 girls buried their heads under the bedclothes, 
 where they lay shivering as another long- 
 drawn wail cleft the darkness. 
 
 " Oh, it s only Raimundo s dog," laughed 
 Lucina hysterically, under the weight of 
 blankets. " Don t you know he went to Ba- 
 canuchi yesterday and left Bravo behind? 
 The poor beast is lonely and frightened, I 
 suppose." 
 
 Another horseman clattered by at this 
 moment, but the red light soon faded, the 
 shouts died away, and silence reigned again 
 in Ceritas. The girls long lay clasped in 
 each other s arms, straining their ears into 
 the darkness, but at last their tense grasp 
 relaxed, and they fell into quiet slumber. 
 
 The morning broke serene and sunny, the 
 usual cheerful noises were heard, and the 
 baker s boy, as he passed on his morning 
 rounds with his shallow basket of loaves 
 on his head, appeared so perfectly gay and 
 unconcerned that Mary concluded she must 
 have had an unusually vivid nightmare. It 
 was strange, certainly, that Lucina s dreams 
 should have exactly paralleled hers, but they 
 both ran to the breakfast-room more than 
 half prepared to believe that there had really 
 been no alarm in the night. 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 173 
 
 Mr. Vazquez was already seated, and with 
 a grave face was hurrying through his meal. 
 
 " I hope you were n t frightened last night, 
 girls," he said, looking up as they came in. 
 " Do you know, neither Barbara nor I knew 
 a word of the matter till the cook came this 
 morning. Our window looks on the court 
 yard, you see, and we re both sound sleepers. 
 Well, it s a bad business, a bad business ! " 
 
 "What has happened, Don Emilio?" 
 " What has happened, nino ? " cried the 
 girls in a breath. 
 
 " It s the end of the matter I partly ex 
 plained to you the other day, Miss Annesley. 
 Governor Salazar has made himself very 
 unpopular by refusing to sanction several 
 measures this session of the legislature. I 
 don t know the merits of the various bills, 
 they were passed over his head after 
 wards, but I dare say he was right. He s 
 a sensible, straightforward man, I believe. 
 His lieutenant-governor, Davila, is a dema 
 gogue, a perfectly unprincipled fellow, 
 and I ve heard for some time that he s been 
 working up the popular feeling against Sa 
 lazar so as to oust him from his place." 
 
 " And get it for himself," commented 
 Mrs. Vazquez, who had just entered. 
 
174 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Naturally ; and there are enough thieves 
 and highway robbers and crack-brained fools 
 in this country, or any other for that mat 
 ter, to back up any man who 11 give them a 
 glass of mescal, a horse and a gun, and let 
 them play soldier." 
 
 " But what happened last night ? " asked 
 Mary breathlessly. 
 
 " Oh, it s the old story," bitterly ; " we re 
 in the hands of the enemy this morning. 
 A body of Davila s men rode in last night 
 and took the town. There were n t more than 
 fifty of them all told, but it was the dead of 
 night and there was next to no resistance. 
 
 " There was a brief skirmish, I understand, 
 and a few shots exchanged ; then they took 
 possession of the jail and are holding the 
 plaza. One or two men were wounded, and 
 one poor fellow killed, one of the jail 
 guards, a good citizen, I believe, and a de 
 cent hard-working man." 
 
 " And is it all over now? " asked Lucina, 
 paling a trifle at the horrors of war. 
 
 " Over, child ! It s just begun ; the whole 
 purpose of this comic opera revolution has 
 to be worked out yet. It won t be 4 over, 
 as you say, till they ve levied a good fat 
 tax for expenses of war, on every man in 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 175 
 
 town that s got a real in his pocket. But 
 don t worry a minute, any of you," with 
 a protecting touch on his wife s shoulder. 
 " We ve nothing to fear unless it s rob 
 bery. Just keep close two or three days, 
 and our revolutionists will march away when 
 their pockets are filled." 
 
 He was turning to leave the room when 
 a series of ear-piercing screams was heard 
 outside. Mary, whose nerves had not yet 
 recovered from the night s excitement, 
 dropped her cup with a crash on the bricks, 
 and Lucina half rose from her chair and 
 leaned, trembling, against the table. 
 
 Don Emilio strode to the door and threw 
 it open. " What is the matter out there ? " 
 he called in a commanding voice. 
 
 Joaquin, the horse-boy, hurried through 
 the orchard gate in answer, with Faustino 
 screaming and kicking in his arms. 
 
 "It is this ill -taught one, your honor," 
 he panted, breathless with his exertions. 
 " He said he should go and see the soldiers, 
 and when I told him your honor had said 
 no one was to leave the courtyard, he ran 
 into the orchard and was half over the wall 
 when I pulled him back by the shameless 
 foot." 
 
176 UNDER TUP] CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " You did right, Joaquin. Faustino," 
 sternly, " go to the dining-room and sit 
 there till I call you. . . . Certainly not, 
 Vicente, you are not to ring the bell, nor to 
 go out without permission. . . . We can 
 have no school for a day or two, Miss Aunes- 
 ley, till matters are quiet." 
 
 With a hasty kiss and caress for his wife 
 and an encouraging tap on Lucina s pale 
 cheek, Don Emilio hurried off, ordering 
 Joaquin to lock and bar the entrance-door 
 behind him and to keep all the shutters 
 closed on the street. 
 
 The two girls and Mrs. Vazquez stood in 
 the courtyard regarding each other with 
 blank faces, and Mary s hair really seemed 
 to curl more tightly in her agitation. The 
 fat cook, who had prudently brought her 
 three impish boys with her that morning, 
 stood in the kitchen door, the breakfast 
 dishes round her on the floor and her dusky 
 brood hanging to her skirts. Her reboso 
 was thrown back, showing her brown neck 
 and arms and her loose \vhite chemise, and 
 as she rebraided one of her long black 
 plaits, she fairly palpitated with eagerness 
 to seize Joaquin as he came in and discuss 
 the whole matter with him. 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 177 
 
 " Well, we re provisioned for a siege, 
 children, in case worse comes to worst," said 
 Mrs. Vazquez, laughing nervously. " With 
 the beans in your room, Mary, the quinces 
 and the barrel of flour, the well and the cow, 
 we can hold out almost as long as they did 
 at Sebastopol. There s really not a bit of 
 danger for us, Emilio says, but he s rather 
 anxious about Raimundo. He s gone out 
 to see if he can hear anything of him now. 
 I wanted him to stay here and send Joaquin, 
 but he says it s no use hiding like a rat in 
 a hole. Davila s men want nothing of him 
 but money ; and they 11 take that any way." 
 
 "Why, is Don Raimundo in danger?" 
 cried Mary, moving a little nearer. 
 
 " He s a member of the legislature, you 
 know, and has defended the governor s pol 
 icy. Emilio has been begging him for days 
 to go to Tontin for a while, but he seemed 
 absolutely determined to stay here. Reports 
 were so ugly yesterday* that he did consent 
 to go up to Bacanuchi, and your uncle, Lu- 
 cina, is to keep some of the Indians on the 
 watch day and night, in case the revolution 
 ists take a fancy to follow him." 
 
 " Would they kill him if they caught 
 him ? " whispered Mary, with dilating eyes. 
 
178 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Kill the goose that lays the golden eggs ? 
 No fear of that, child, though they d drag 
 him round the country and make him en 
 dure all kinds of hardships ; and of course 
 such fellows are a wild lot and hot-headed, 
 they have been known before this to shoot 
 a prisoner down if they had any trouble with 
 him." 
 
 " Poor Don Raimundo ! " exclaimed 
 Mary, " is n t it dreadful ? " 
 
 " Poor mama," sighed Lucina. " What 
 fear she will have at Bacanuchi without me ! " 
 
 " Without you, indeed ! " cried Vicente, 
 who had been listening to the conversation 
 with open mouth. " What could a girl do ? 
 If I were there, I d defend mania and 
 Raimundo too." 
 
 " It is n t Raimundo s life we are anxious 
 about," said Mrs. Vazquez, " or at least 
 that s only incidental. Emilio does n t 
 want him to be taken prisoner and have to 
 pay a big ransom jifst now when he s de 
 veloping his mine and needs all his money. 
 But we sha n t gain anything by standing 
 here all day, girls. I m going to set Tino 
 free, Mariquita, Mr. Vazquez must have 
 forgotten him. 
 
 " Remember not to leave the courtyard, 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 179 
 
 Vicente ! . . . Dona Juana," calling from the 
 dining-room door, " the danger will not be 
 increased if you wash the dishes, I think." 
 
 Mary went to her room feeling decidedly 
 nervous. What had Don Emilio said about 
 the danger of robbery? Would it not be 
 best to hide her trinkets and the twenty-five 
 silver dollars she had saved for the next 
 trip of the egg-merchant ? 
 
 Deep down in her heart, too, was stirring 
 another fear that the present conditions 
 could not but increase in strength, for only 
 the week before, Mrs. Vazquez had told her 
 that her husband might possibly have to 
 leave Ceritas for two or three months, and 
 that if his trip were to be so long a one she 
 could not think of letting him go alone. 
 
 Mary sank into a chair now with a half- 
 sob. " Oh, for the peace of my own country 
 and the shelter of Glen Ellen," she sighed. 
 " How far, how far away I am ! Oh, if 
 Miss Barbara goes, what will become of 
 me?" 
 
 Tears stole from under her lashes and she 
 bowed her head on the table-cover aunt 
 Ellen had embroidered, and prayed for cour 
 age and for strength to bear whatever ills 
 might come to her. 
 
180 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 The prayer was answered, too, in the 
 silence that followed, as all sincere petitions 
 for help and comfort from above must ever 
 be, and as Lucina s step was heard at the 
 door, she dried her eyes and was her own 
 bright self again. 
 
 " Lucina," she whispered, " Does n t this 
 room with the shutters closed seem like a 
 funeral? Come in here. You know what 
 your godfather said about robbery. Don t 
 you think we ought to hide our money and 
 our jewelry ? " 
 
 Lucina seemed decidedly exhilarated by 
 the idea. " Oh, yes," she whispered back. 
 " Let s pry up one of the bricks under your 
 bed, and make a hole and drop everything 
 in there. It will be like the buried treasure 
 in your pirate story. I 11 get a big knife 
 and a chisel, but we must be as still as mice, 
 or the boys will hear, and tell everything." 
 
 She stole out with the step of a conspira 
 tor, and returning with the tools, locked and 
 barred the door behind her. 
 
 " We must hurry, Mees Meh-ree," she 
 said softly, her eyes shining with excitement. 
 " The cook seems afraid I m going to give 
 this knife to the revolutionists, and Vicente 
 is determined to know what I want with the 
 
 . 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 181 
 
 chisel. Oh, you ve moved your cot and got 
 everything ready, have n t you ? A y ! " as 
 the chisel dropped with a clang on the 
 bricks. 
 
 " Oh, do be careful, Lucina," begged 
 Mary, in an agony of nervousness, her pre 
 cious bag of money in her hand. " There 
 may be somebody looking through the chinks 
 of the shutters now." 
 
 " The saints preserve us ! " murmured Lu 
 cina, with an anxious glance behind her. 
 " Perhaps you d better dig, too, and we 11 
 finish sooner." 
 
 The two girls worked so well that the 
 brick was soon raised, some earth scooped 
 out, and the treasure, a high-sounding name 
 for the modest collection, hidden safely away. 
 Lucina, having little or nothing at stake, 
 regarded the whole affair as a delightful 
 game, pleasantly spiced with danger ; but 
 Mary, who knew what it was to earn and 
 to need money, set her teeth as she pushed 
 back her cot, and inwardly vowed that no 
 revolutionists, did they come a hundred 
 strong, should get those silver dollars save 
 over her dead body. 
 
 A scanty luncheon, which the cook had 
 evidently doled out in anticipation of a 
 
182 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 siege, was hardly over when Mr. Vazquez 
 returned. 
 
 "No," he said, in answer to his wife s 
 quick question, " there s no news from Rai- 
 mundo, but this tempest is in a rather 
 larger teapot than I expected. Fifty more 
 of those fellows came in this morning from 
 Sayula to reinforce those already here, and 
 a band from Isleta, under Davila s son him 
 self, is reported on the way. Yes, of course 
 it would be folly to attempt resistance, Bar 
 bara ; I ve done what I could to quiet things 
 down, on the contrary. 
 
 " I found four of your patrons in prison, 
 Miss Annesley, and lent them what was re 
 quisite to get out. Cavazos, little Carmen s 
 father, wouldn t pay, nor let me pay for 
 him, and swears he 11 stay there in jail till 
 he wears his guards out. 
 
 " Lafleur, up at the mill, has raised five 
 dollars a barrel on his flour, I hear, since 
 the siege began last night. . . . Ah, you re 
 there, Dona Juana," as ejaculations from 
 the doorway were heard at this news ; " it s 
 lucky we have n t to buy just now, eh ? " 
 
 The strange, excited afternoon, peaceful 
 and flowery in the orchard, dark and mys 
 terious in the close-shuttered rooms, had 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 183 
 
 worn away to dusk when heavy blows, like 
 the knocking in " Macbeth," were heard on 
 the entrance door. 
 
 Joaquin, evidently thinking that his last 
 hour had come, went, shivering, to open, and 
 through the zaguan dashed Lucina s uncle 
 Andres, pale, disheveled, white with dust, 
 his horse dripping with sweat and flecked 
 with foam. 
 
 He flung himself from the saddle, but as 
 family and servants flew to his side, he 
 waved them away, putting his hands to his 
 throat and calling for water, only when the 
 gourd was emptied to the last drop, gasping 
 out, " Raimundo ! Taken ! Three hundred 
 dollars ! Two hours ! " 
 
 " Three hundred dollars ransom ! " cried 
 Don Emilio. " What barefaced robbery ! " 
 "Ay, what villains, what bandits!" 
 groaned the cook, and Joaquin shook his fist 
 in the rear. 
 
 " And they 11 take him away in two 
 hours, Andres, if you don t bring back the 
 money ? " asked Mrs. Vazquez breathlessly. 
 " Si, si, Barbarita ; hasten ! " 
 " How much money is there in the house, 
 little one?" said Don Emilio, turning to his 
 wife. 
 
184 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " I 11 run and see. There can t be more 
 than thirty dollars, I think." 
 
 " Raimundo had some with him, we had 
 twenty at Bacanuchi, and they promised me 
 enough at Cumuripa as I came down to 
 make up a hundred," explained Andres, 
 who had regained his breath. " They say 
 they 11 let him off for half down and the 
 rest next week." 
 
 " Oh, do take my money, Mr. Vazquez ! " 
 begged Mary, in a trembling voice, clasping 
 her hands in entreaty. " Poor Raimundo ! 
 They 11 take him away before Don Andres 
 gets back." 
 
 " Not they," said Mr. Vazquez confi 
 dently. " They 11 wait for the money, the 
 rascals, if they wait all night. No, indeed, 
 I won t take your savings, child. I 11 bor 
 row what I want in town here. There s 
 no such haste. Andres always gets excited 
 and loses his head." 
 
 While Joaquin was saddling a fresh horse, 
 and Mr. Vazquez scouring the town for 
 ready money, the excited messenger told his 
 breathless audience the story of the attack 
 on the ranch, Raimundo s capture and his 
 interview with the revolutionists. The tale 
 was recounted in so dramatic a style, with 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 185 
 
 such descriptive gestures, such leaps and 
 bounds, accented by the jangling spurs at 
 exciting points, such imitation of voice and 
 action of the contesting parties, such sud 
 den exclamations, torrents of Castilian, and 
 showers of sparks shot from fiery eyes, that 
 Mary, with her cool Anglo-Saxon blood, felt 
 decidedly embarrassed in spite of her anx 
 ious interest, and wished the man would sit 
 down quietly and tell his story like a Chris 
 tian. 
 
 As he galloped off at last, the precious 
 packet of money hidden in his boots, she 
 absolutely gasped with fatigue, and turning 
 to Mrs. Vazquez sighed, " Dear me ! what a 
 day ! I feel as if I d been living in a dime 
 novel. Now, Don Raimundo is safe, do 
 let s go under the orange -trees and rest, 
 and talk it all over. Come, Lucina! No 
 thing else can happen to-night, that s a 
 comfort ! " 
 
 Ah, but something else did happen before 
 midnight had tolled on the old church-bell. 
 Mary had felt so " fidgety," as she expressed 
 it, on going to her room, that, secure behind 
 her barred shutters, she had first written a 
 long letter home, detailing all that had hap 
 pened, and then had turned to the day s 
 
186 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Bible lesson, hoping to find some words that 
 would soothe and tranquilize her. 
 
 She was repeating softly to herself, " I 
 will both lay me down in peace, and sleep : 
 for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in 
 safety," when there came a tap on her shut 
 ters, and a soft voice at her window called, 
 "Mariquita!" 
 
 " Why," thought Mary, with a start, lay 
 ing down her Bible, " that sounds like Rai- 
 mundo. What can he be doing here?" 
 
 " Mariquita ! " came the suppressed voice 
 again. 
 
 " Is it you, Seiior Altamirano ? " ap 
 proaching the window. " Oh, is it safe for 
 you to be here ? " 
 
 " Quite safe, senorita. The goose is 
 plucked now, you know. Can you open 
 your shutter a chink so that they may not 
 hear me in the street ? I saw your light, 
 and am come to say farewell. I have al 
 ready seen Emilio over the orchard wall." 
 
 " Are you going to Tontin ? " blowing out 
 her lantern and throwing open one of the 
 upper shutters. " Ah, it is really you ! " 
 as the tall figure, shrouded in its sarape, 
 appeared outside the gratings. " I know I 
 
RUMORS OF WAR 187 
 
 shall perish with fear if you stay more than 
 a minute. Where is your horse ? " 
 
 " I tied him in a thicket outside the town. 
 I go at once, senorita. I am honored that 
 you think of my safety. I hope my absence 
 will not be a long one, and that to-day s 
 little affair will not prejudice you against 
 my country. 
 
 "Adios, I kiss your hand, senorita mia." 
 44 Adios, amigo ! Vaya con Dios ! " l called 
 Mary softly into the darkness, and " Que 
 vaya con Dios ! " she murmured, as again 
 she closed and barred the shutters. 
 
 1 Good-by, friend. May God go with you ! 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MANY SORROWS. 
 
 THE narrow street lay half in vivid sun 
 shine, half in the shadow of the high brown 
 adobe wall that bordered it npon one side. 
 
 On the other grew a hedge of elderberry 
 all white with bloom, and in and out and 
 over and under the branches climbed the 
 feathery, starlike flowers of the Barba de 
 Viejo, 1 while through the white screen they 
 made gleamed the brilliant crimson bells of 
 the pomegranates in the field beyond. The 
 trees were waving green, and behind the 
 brown, crumbling, adobe houses, the cactus 
 fences were putting forth tiny leaves and 
 long spikes of vivid scarlet blossoms, where 
 red -winged blackbirds sat singing in an 
 ecstasy of springtide joy. 
 
 "How without manners for a young lady 
 to promenade herself alone ! " cried a portly, 
 black-braided dame to her neighbor, as a 
 small figure, in a broad straw hat and a 
 scanty gray gown, hurried past. 
 
 1 Old Man s Beard. 
 
MANY SORROWS 189 
 
 "Well you speak, indeed, Dona Rarnona," 
 with a sigh and a shake of the head. " Ay ! 
 these Americanas, these Americanas ! 
 
 Mary heeded neither criticism nor answer, 
 saw neither the flowers nor the birds she 
 loved so passionately ; she flew over the 
 ground with bent head and clenched hands, 
 intent only upon reaching a sheltered spot 
 on the green hillside where she might sob 
 her heart out, safe from prying eyes and 
 curious ears. 
 
 The house that had been her home for 
 nearly five months was closed and silent 
 now, for her greatest fear had at last been 
 realized, and the heavy wagon, bearing Mr. 
 and Mrs. Vazquez on the mining trip, had 
 just rumbled through the Alameda. A 
 lodging had been engaged for the two girls 
 near the home of Lucina s relative, Mrs. 
 Garcia, who had managed to tuck the boys 
 away in an odd corner, and had gladly wel 
 comed Mary and Lucina to her family table, 
 although she could not accommodate them 
 
 O 
 
 under her roof. 
 
 After the last good-bys, when Mary had 
 slipped away alone, Lucina had repaired to 
 the new room, accompanied by two faithful 
 vassals from the school bearing " Chuchule," 
 
190 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 the pet squirrel, and a basket of oranges 
 from the beloved orchard. 
 
 For the last week Mary had felt like the 
 wretched prisoner of olden days who sees 
 his dungeon walls gradually close in upon 
 him, and last evening, as she had tried to 
 sing a melody of Koschat s to her guitar, 
 she had felt that " Verlassen, verlfissen, 
 verlassen bin i ! " so perfectly expressed 
 her sad plight that she had broken down 
 altogether and fled to her room. This was 
 the only time her defenses had given way, 
 however, and her distress even then was so 
 well restrained that no one save the sympa 
 thizing Lucina noticed it at all. 
 
 Mary herself felt that the bitterness of 
 her grief at losing her protectors was almost 
 unjustifiable, for they had spared no pains 
 to ensure her approximate comfort and ab 
 solute safety in their absence, the revolution 
 was completely over and Davila established 
 in the governor s chair, her school was in 
 good condition, and her health left nothing 
 to be desired. 
 
 Mrs. Vazquez felt so confident that she 
 would return in three or four months at 
 latest, she was so sure of Mary s courage 
 and devotion to her work and so proud of 
 
MANY SORROWS 191 
 
 her success, that the prospective absence 
 seemed to her rather a trifling thing, and 
 she did not suspect for a moment the ago 
 nies the girl was suffering. 
 
 " Oh, I know it all, I know it all," sobbed 
 Mary, prone on the hillside, her head in the 
 spring grasses. " I know they mean to corne 
 back, and perhaps they will. I know I m 
 safe and nothing will happen. It is n t that; 
 I m not afraid, but, oh, I am so homesick I 
 feel as if I could n t bear it. 
 
 " While 4 Miss Barbara was here there 
 was something to link me to Glen Ellen, but 
 now I in all alone, and, oh, dear ! " and at 
 this new thought the tears flowed faster 
 " there is n t a person within hundreds of 
 miles who ever heard of me a few months 
 ago, and nobody anywhere to speak English 
 with. Oh," with a choking sob, " I feel 
 as if Mexico were a great spider s web, and 
 I were a poor fly all tangled up in it, never 
 to get out." 
 
 Unless salt water is injurious to vegeta 
 tion, there must have been an unusual num 
 ber of flowers later in the season on the 
 spot where Mary s head rested that morn 
 ing, but the fountain of tears is happily not 
 inexhaustible, and by and by the weeping 
 
192 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Niobe sat up, with flushed cheeks and 
 swollen eyes, and, with her curly head a 
 very furze-bush of tangles, looked across 
 the valley to the solemn mountain ranges. 
 There among the grasses, with her hands 
 clasped about her knees, she took counsel 
 with her forces, chided herself for useless 
 grieving and lack of courage, and drew 
 afresh upon the heavenly stores of strength 
 and patience ever waiting for the seeking 
 heart. Life looked gray, it must be con 
 fessed, and duty s path a rough and dusty 
 one, as she came down from her heights and 
 bathed her eyes by the brookside, but she 
 meant to tread that path, turning neither to 
 the right nor to the left, God helping her, 
 so long as her life should last. 
 
 With pale face and heavy eyelids, yet 
 with a sweet composure in the lines of her 
 mouth, she crossed the threshold of her lodg 
 ing. 
 
 On her table lay a package of card-board 
 slips, " Daily Thoughts " aunt Ellen had 
 called them as she copied and arranged 
 them for her darling, and selecting one 
 of these, with a kiss for the familiar, grace 
 ful writing, Mary tucked it in the corner 
 of her mirror, where every morning it might 
 
MANY SORROWS . 193 
 
 preach a little sermon to its audience of 
 one. 
 
 jFrtenU, ncuct strike sail to a fear ! Come 
 into port greatly or sail toiti) (0oU tlje seas. 
 
 " Nobody can think it s a pose, or an 
 
 affectation," thought the maiden of sorrows 
 
 as she looked at the text, " for no one in Ce- 
 
 ritas ever heard of Emerson, and nobody," 
 
 and here the girlish lip quivered a little, 
 
 - " nobody but me knows enough English 
 
 to understand it." 
 
 "And how does the new room please 
 you, Mees Meh-ree, my loved one ? " cried 
 Lucina, dancing in at this moment with 
 Chuchule on her shoulder. " Is it not a 
 paradise, is it not an abode for the blest ? 
 Did one ever see such a ceiling, such walls, 
 and such a floor ? Had not my cousin so 
 long a family, ten little ones; saints above, 
 what a number ! you would have been 
 more fitly lodged with her." 
 
 " Oh, this does very well, dear, and you 
 know there was n t another corner in town, 
 anywhere near the Garcias ; but it is a re 
 markable apartment, certainly," as her eye 
 traveled over its various beauties. 
 
 It was a long room, brick-floored, of course, 
 
194 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 but the bricks so worn away that they pre 
 sented a series of mountain peaks with ac 
 companying depressions most disconcerting 
 to the unaccustomed foot. The walls, once 
 white, were now splotched and smeared with 
 brown stains, instantly suggesting murders 
 and suicides to the fertile imagination, while 
 the old cactus ceiling above seemed a likely 
 place for the harboring of noxious reptiles. 
 
 Vicente, with a boy s inexplicable delight 
 in feminine squeamishness, had told Mary 
 a story not long before, of a centipede that 
 once dropped from an old cactus thatch in 
 his house on an unsuspecting sleeper be 
 neath, and as his hearer found, on inquiry, 
 that the incident was really not unheard of, 
 she never after could help casting anxious 
 as well as prayerful glances heavenward as 
 she went to bed. 
 
 There were no gratings in their window, 
 only the ordinary wooden shutters ; and the 
 two doors, one opening on the street, the 
 other on the un walled yard, where a chained 
 pig raised his voice in lamentation, both 
 refused to close securely, unless propped 
 by heavy poles, which, wedged against the 
 bricks and extending far into the floor, 
 made another trap for the unwary foot. 
 
MANY SORROWS 195 
 
 The wrinkled, red-eyed crone, their land 
 lady, had allowed them the use of a small 
 room adjoining for the storage of trunks, 
 and this the girls had promptly christened 
 "Araby the Blest," from the variety of 
 odors that always seemed to linger there. 
 
 Lucina s cot, with its gay calico counter 
 pane, stood at one end of the main room, 
 Mary s at the other, and they had, for all 
 remaining furniture, a table, a washstand, 
 and one chair. Lucina said cheerfully that 
 it was more or less a custom in her coun 
 try to sit on the floor, and that she rather 
 liked it, for her part ; and that people who 
 had a glass candlestick, three feet high, and 
 such a grand picture hanging on the walls 
 (this, by the way, was Celia s sketch of 
 Old Maids Hall), could hardly expect any 
 further luxuries. 
 
 Dear Lucina ; what a comfort she was to 
 Mary ; how full of tact, how sweet and sym 
 pathizing, how interested in everything that 
 concerned her beloved companion, half friend 
 and half teacher ! 
 
 The girls had been less than a week in 
 their new quarters, when letters came from 
 the Masons, saying that they had just heard 
 of Mrs. Vazquez s departure, and begging 
 
196 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Mary not to stay in that " forsaken coun 
 try " a moment longer, but to come directly 
 to them in Tontin. " Don t be proud, 
 child," wrote Mrs. Mason ; " the judge and 
 I are just aching for you ; this great house 
 seems empty as a vault with my boy away, 
 and if you must be independent, I m sure 
 Rufus can get something for you to do by 
 and by." 
 
 Mary could not but think, as she read the 
 sweet letter, of what life might be in the gay 
 little frontier town with such friends and 
 such a home, but she put the temptation 
 swiftly away with an unspoken " Retro, 
 Satanas!" 
 
 " No," she thought, " my place is here ; I 
 do believe now, that God called me to these 
 children, and I cannot go, I will not go, un 
 less something unforeseen should happen at 
 home, and aunt Ellen should really need 
 me. But I don t see what can happen, 
 unless Celia marries, which she s always 
 said was most unlikely, so I shall probably 
 stay just here to the end of the chapter, and 
 teach Lucina s grandchildren." 
 
 These nebulous little persons, be it spoken 
 without irreverence, came near losing their 
 
MANY SORROWS 197 
 
 prospective hopes of existence before long, 
 for their grandparent-to-be complained one 
 morning of a blinding headache and pains 
 in her limbs, dragged herself home from 
 school the next day with difficulty, and 
 finally crept into bed, assuring Mrs. Garcia 
 and the anxious Mary that she would be 
 " very alleviated in the morning." 
 
 The long night was not half over before 
 the watcher at her side felt well assured that 
 several days would dawn before the promised 
 " alleviation " could be hoped for, and when 
 the school bell tolled next morning the little 
 nurse set off for her duties with a heavy 
 heart, leaving her precious charge in Mrs. 
 Garcia s care. 
 
 " If she grows worse, what shall I do ? " 
 thought Mary. "There s not a doctor in 
 town, and so far as I know, not one in the 
 district. It s fortunate to-morrow is Satur 
 day, and if she isn t better by Sunday, I shall 
 send for her mother, no matter what they 
 say. Oh, if Mrs. Vazquez were only here, or 
 if Mrs. Garcia s baby were n t ill, or if Don 
 Raimundo were at home, or if anything were 
 not as it is ! My dear, dear little Lucina ! 
 what a criss-cross world this seems to be ! " 
 
 The sensitive, sympathetic ones among 
 
198 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 the children respected her anxiety that day 
 and were phenomenally good ; the naughty 
 ones, on the contrary, climbed to heights of 
 iniquity never reached before, and Faustino, 
 in particular, so set all rules at defiance that 
 the teacher rose in her chair in the middle 
 of the afternoon, and in an awful voice, 
 bade him go home and tell Mrs. Garcia he 
 was to be put to bed at once. 
 
 This thunderbolt cleared the air, and mat 
 ters went more smoothly till the hour of 
 release arrived, and Mary hurried to her 
 lodging to find Carmencita s mother in 
 charge of the patient, the Garcia baby being 
 much worse that afternoon. Lucina, too, 
 was decidedly worse, there was unfortu 
 nately no doubt about that, entirely unre 
 sponsive, so far, to the simple household 
 remedies they had tried, burning with fever 
 and already quite delirious. 
 
 That was a black, never-to-be-forgotten 
 night passed at her bedside, watching the 
 restless, tossing head, holding the gourd of 
 water to the parched lips, listening to the 
 incoherent babble, the snatches of song 
 which sounded so loud in the quiet night, 
 and hearing with aching heart the plaintive 
 calls for " Maimi, mi mama." 
 
MANY SORROWS 199 
 
 The candle on the table flickered in its 
 tall glass shade, the bats squeaked in the 
 ceiling, now swooping through the open shut 
 ters, now circling round Mary s head, and 
 the poor little nurse felt as if the culmination 
 of her sorrows had indeed been reached with 
 the events of this night. Lucina s illness 
 seemed to her inexperience a far more serious 
 matter than it really was, and she could not 
 help the darkest foreboding, as she thought 
 how rapidly the malady had developed. 
 
 " I have not half appreciated the darling," 
 she thought, " and now she will be taken 
 from me. She has been so good, so gentle, 
 so self-sacrificing, so thoughtful of me, I 
 could n t bear my life here without her. Oh, 
 does the dear Lord need her as much as I 
 do?" 
 
 "Dear Father," she whispered, as the 
 gray dawn peeped in at the window, " wilt 
 Thou not, in Thy mercy, stretch out Thy 
 compassionate hand and heal this child of 
 Thine? Let me not be left altogether deso 
 late, I entreat Thee. Thou hast hosts of 
 angels in Thy heavenly kingdom ; spare to 
 us this one, only this little one ! Hear my 
 prayer, O Father ; save my dear Lucina, 
 or, if she must be taken, let me bring her 
 
200 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 mother to her before she goes. Hear how 
 she calls her name. Heavenly Father, listen, 
 and pity her ! And pity me too, my Father, 
 O my Father ! " 
 
 She was still kneeling by the bedside, her 
 head buried in the pillow, when Vicente s 
 voice was heard at the window. 
 
 44 How is my sister ? " he whispered. 
 
 44 1 do not know, dear boy. I am not wise 
 enough to tell. She seems quieter, but I 
 want you to borrow a horse somewhere, and 
 go to the ranch as fast as you can and bring 
 back your mother. Lucina keeps calling 
 for her, and she shall have her. Go at once 
 and say nothing to any one. 
 
 As his steps were heard retreating Mrs. 
 Garcia entered, haggard with anxiety, no 
 less for Lucina than for her own little one ; 
 but she seemed somewhat reassured at sio-ht 
 
 O 
 
 of the patient, and delighted to find that 
 Mary had already done what her own cares 
 had caused her to forget, and sent for the 
 mother who seemed so sorely needed. 
 
 It was an anxious morning for Mary, for 
 though Lucina really seemed better, she her 
 self was completely overwrought, weighed 
 down with responsibility, and exhausted with 
 two nights watching. 
 
MANY SORROWS 201 
 
 She could have cried for Joy when about 
 noon the heavy farm-wagon rolled up to the 
 door, and a matronly figure in mourning- 
 gown and shawl climbed quickly down and 
 glided into the room. 
 
 "My little daughter?" she whispered, 
 pale with anxiety, and flew to Lucina s 
 corner, where she sank on the floor by the 
 bedside. 
 
 A moment s quiet, a few touches with 
 experienced hands, and she turned with a 
 soft coo of joy, and tears glittering on her 
 lashes. " She is better," she faltered. " See, 
 she sleeps, and her brow is moist and cool. 
 Come here to me, thou angel," opening her 
 motherly arms to Mary, and forgetting the 
 formal " you " in her emotion. " It is thou 
 who hast tended my little one. Ah, my 
 Vicente told me of thy goodness. Thou art 
 one of mine now, from this day forever. 
 Come here to me, thou precious one ! " 
 
 It was not many days later when Mary 
 stood in her doorway one morning, watch 
 ing the embarkation of Lucina for Ba- 
 canuchi, whither she was going to com 
 plete her convalescence. There was cause 
 for great joy in her patient s rapid recovery, 
 
202 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 she was invited ,to the ranch herself by and 
 by and was to take her first vacation for the 
 trip : and yet there was a heaviness in her 
 spirits that seemed to have no adequate 
 cause. 
 
 "What is the matter with me?" she 
 thought, waving good-by to the travelers. 
 " It must be because the room looks so 
 empty without Lucina. But I sha n t be 
 lonely with faithful little Carmen to sleep 
 here every night, and Tino sticks to me like 
 a burr since I punished him that dreadful 
 afternoon his sister was so ill. ... I wonder 
 if all s well at home, or if this is some kind 
 of a presentiment that s weighing me down. 
 Nonsense ! Celia used to say my presenti 
 ments were like boomerangs, they always 
 shot round the corner. I think I must be 
 tired and need a long walk after school. 
 I in glad it s letter day : that 11 cheer me 
 up. Now of course I shall have a good 
 home-packet and I hope I shall hear from 
 Jack Martin, he hasn t sent me a book 
 for a fortnight, and I do trust there 11 be 
 a letter from that provoking Elsie Dixon." 
 
 When she came home from school that 
 afternoon, Mrs. Garcia had already been to 
 the post-office, and lying on her pink bed- 
 
MANY SORROWS 203 
 
 cover was a goodly array of missives. . . . 
 Yes, there was a fat square envelope from 
 Glen Ellen ; the long looked-for letter from 
 her school friend, Elsie Dixon ; nothing, oh, 
 too bad, nothing at all from Jack, and 
 an envelope and a small box addressed in 
 Mrs. Mason s writing. 
 
 The home budget was kissed and cuddled 
 and devoured first ; next Elsie s absurd 
 scrawl taken up ; then Mrs. Mason s note, 
 for it seemed only a note, opened slowly, 
 while she still laughed over Elsie s nonsense, 
 and, . . . what was this ? as her eyes trav 
 eled swiftly over the paper, . . . Oh, bitter 
 ending to a heavy day, and to a month of 
 sorrows. ..." Dear Jack, poor Jack ! " 
 cried out the girlish voice, and the letter 
 rustled to the floor. 
 
 It was almost dusk when Vicente came to 
 the door and called her to the evening meal. 
 She was sitting at the table writing, but he 
 could not see her face. 
 
 "Tell Mrs. Garcia I will not take any 
 supper, please, "Vicente," she said, without 
 turning. " I have a bad headache and am 
 going to bed as soon as I finish my letters 
 for the stage to-morrow. Take Carmencita 
 the key, will you, when you go, and ask her 
 
204 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 not to speak to me when she comes in. I 
 may be asleep, if my head grows better. Say 
 good-night to the family. No, I need no 
 thing at all, thank you, little one." 
 
 It was long before the letters were fin 
 ished, sealed, and stamped that night, and 
 when at last Mary rose from her seat, her 
 face was pale and the black shadows under 
 her eyes spoke of both physical and mental 
 suffering. With a heavy sigh, she leaned 
 on her window shutters and looked out into 
 the night. 
 
 " Good friend, dear boy," she whispered, 
 " by whatsoever paths you fare, may God 
 have you in his keeping ! " 
 
 The stage clattered gayly by next morn 
 ing, and in the mail-bag, under the driver s 
 seat, lay a letter addressed in rather a shaky 
 hand to Mrs. Bertram Moore, Glen Ellen, 
 Corona, California. 
 
 Oh, dearest aunt Ellen, [it began,] I ve been 
 heartbroken this afternoon at hearing from Mrs. 
 Mason of poor Jack Martin s death last week. 
 He had a severe hemorrhage, it seems, and was 
 ordered up to the Last Chance again for change 
 of air. He had n t been there a week before he 
 was so ill that the judge was sent for to take him 
 back, and he died at their house in Tontin be- 
 
MANY SORROWS 205 
 
 fore his father could come. Dear Jack ! I m so 
 glad he had Mrs. Mason with him at the last. 
 
 She writes that he spoke of me several times, 
 and asked her to send me a locket he had ordered 
 for my birthday. It has come, and it is lovely, 
 though I don t believe I could have taken it in 
 his lifetime, for I m sure it s a costly little 
 thing. It is gold, in the shape of a heart, and 
 has one of the agates we found at Yuma set in 
 the back, and a bunch of forget-me-nots in blue 
 enamel on the front. Inside there is engraved 
 " From Jack to Mary," and below, just three 
 words and the date, " The Tontin Stage, No 
 vember, 18 ." 
 
 There s a place for a picture, and I shall put 
 in the one that he gave me on the journey, 
 just his head, so bright and boyish-looking, 
 with his cap pushed back and his wavy hair 
 showing. 
 
 It seems strange that he had " Mary " on the 
 locket, for he never called me anything but Miss 
 Annesley, though I would n t have cared any 
 way, for he was so fragile and so young that he 
 seemed almost like another girl to me. 
 
 There s a slender chain with the locket, and I 
 shall always wear it for his sake, poor, dear, suf 
 fering boy ! He was so sweet and good to me on 
 that awful journey, and I felt when I arrived in 
 Tontin as if I d known him all my life. 
 
 My eyes are swollen so that I can hardly see, 
 
206 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 with crying over Mrs. Mason s letter and the 
 locket. I m glad Jack s with his mother, now, 
 he missed her so ; but I feel as if everybody 
 were leaving me, first Mrs. Vazquez, then Lu- 
 cina, and now my poor Jack. 
 
 Oh, aunt Ellen, do be careful of yourself and 
 of Celia. I am weighted with sorrows, and feel 
 as if I could n t bear another straw. I 11 send 
 my journal next time. 
 
 Ever your MARY. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER AND OTHER 
 MATTERS. 
 
 " THE bed-cover of the little mistress is 
 on the pink side," cried Carmencita joy 
 fully, peeping in, on tiptoe, at Mary s win 
 dow. % 
 
 " And what does that signify to thee, 
 thou stupid?" growled her cousin, Lauro 
 Martinez, who was in his usual surly mood. 
 
 " It signifies that my rose of Castile is 
 happy to-day, for I have noted that when 
 she is sad it is the brown side of her cover 
 that is shown." 
 
 "Ah, thou and thy rose ! What nonsense 
 thou dost chatter ! " and Lauro stalked away 
 to school, leaving Carmen waiting, as usual, 
 on the corner for the " little mistress." 
 
 It was quite true, what the loving eyes 
 had discovered, for Mary had a whimsical 
 fashion of changing her calico bed-cover ac 
 cording to her mood, turning it on the pink 
 side, with its gay roses showing, when her 
 
208 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 mental mercury ran high, and reversing it 
 to the sombre, dark brown lining when the 
 metal dropped to freezing point. 
 
 The devoted fabric had whisked about 
 like a very weathercock of late, for Mary, 
 greatly saddened by Jack Martin s sudden 
 death, was therefore unusually disposed to 
 melancholy thoughts and dark forebodings, 
 which her loneliness, now that Mrs. Vaz 
 quez and Lucina had both gone, served but 
 to increase. 
 
 Greater responsibilities, too, ngw lay upon 
 her shoulders, for in Mr. Vazquez s absence 
 she was obliged to assume the financial man 
 agement of the school, and though the total 
 sum involved each month was but a small 
 one, yet it seemed formidable to her young 
 eyes. 
 
 To pile Pelion upon Ossa, the stage-drivers 
 also, or those in authority over them, had 
 developed of late a tantalizing habit of con 
 fusing the mail-bags, thus sending the let 
 ters destined for Ceritas to Isleta, and vice 
 versa. Only those who, alone in a foreign 
 country, have awaited the arrival of a weekly 
 post can realize what the girl endured on 
 those luckless days when, after six days 
 expectation, she breathlessly pursued the 
 
A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER 209 
 
 stage to the post-office, only to find alas ! 
 that the Ceritas bag was missing. 
 
 It was then that the bed-cover was rapidly 
 shifted to the dark-brown side, and then 
 that Mary always turned to her small shelf 
 of books and took down Emerson s essay on 
 " Compensation," with a manful attempt to 
 convince herself that what was " for her " 
 would " gravitate to her " by and by, and 
 that in the meantime she had other bless 
 ings to offset the great disappointment. 
 
 To-day, however, the calico roses were 
 blossoming, for it was bright spring weather, 
 the sun was in gay and gracious mood, there 
 were wild flowers innumerable in bloom on 
 the hills and along the river-banks, and 
 Mary, oh, wonderful, most wonderful, was 
 invited to a real party ! 
 
 And this was the way of it. It was the 
 saint s day of Carmen s sister, Alexandra, 
 on the morrow, and as such anniversaries 
 are more celebrated than birthdays in 
 Mexico, she was to have a surprise party. 
 
 Senor Bandini s six young lady daugh 
 ters were arranging the festivity, and they 
 but followed the universal courtesy to the 
 " Americanita," as they called her, in ask 
 ing her to make one of the company. 
 
210 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 It was to be a morning surprise party 
 (" who ever heard of such a thing ! " thought 
 the favored guest, as she received the invita 
 tion), and a very early morning one too. 
 Such festivals are called " Madrugadas " in 
 Spanish, a word which might perhaps be 
 translated as " Dawn Parties " in this con 
 nection ; and it is really a pretty idea, this of 
 heralding the morning under a friend s win 
 dow, on the day of her especial saint and 
 protector. 
 
 " Be so kind as to be ready when we call 
 for you, senorita," said Ynez Bandini, on the 
 day of the invitation, as, with the customary 
 formal embrace, she took her leave. 
 
 " Without doubt, senorita, I will not keep 
 you waiting. Adios, and a thousand thanks 
 for your goodness." 
 
 There was much cogitation and puzzled 
 knitting of brows that day as to what toi 
 let could possibly be made to serve for 
 the occasion. Obviously, not the shrunken 
 gray gown, which, indeed, was now past 
 repair, and promised to the washerwoman s 
 eldest hope ; obviously, not the brown tweed, 
 which was far too warm for spring in 
 Sonora; certainly not either of the ging 
 hams which aunt Ellen had just sent for 
 
A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER 211 
 
 school wear, and even more certainly not 
 the blue and white print which she had toil 
 somely fashioned for herself. 
 
 " It will have to be Celia s old white 
 cashmere," thought Mary, "though it s 
 darned in five places and not as clean as I 
 could wish. I suppose I 11 have to dress 
 when I go to bed, so as not to keep them 
 waiting, and sha n t I be well wrinkled when 
 I get up ! " 
 
 At three o clock the next morning, she 
 was wakened by a particularly vicious squeal 
 from her landlady s hungry pig, and in a 
 moment the tinkle of guitars and harps 
 began in the street outside, while Ynez put 
 her head in at the window, calling gayly, 
 " Here we are. Are you ready ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes I m ready soon as I wake 
 up," answered Mary, sleepily rubbing her 
 eyes. " Wait a moment and I 11 come." 
 
 She stumbled to her dressing-table, shook 
 out her skirts, put her curls in hasty order, 
 and issued into the darkness with a merry 
 greeting, her huge door-key under her arm. 
 
 A number of girls and matrons and as 
 many young men, most of whom she had 
 never seen, were waiting without, and they 
 all hurried off to the Cavazos mansion. 
 
212 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 The darkness was still intense and the 
 breath of the dreaming flowers heavy with 
 dew, as they reached Alexandra s window, 
 and it seemed to Mary like a scene in an 
 opera as the musicians struck up a lively 
 air, and the young men began sending off 
 rockets and lighting firecrackers. 
 
 It was not long before the maiden herself 
 appeared at the window, fully dressed and 
 apparently not in the least surprised, and 
 smilingly receiving the huzzas and greetings 
 of her guests, at once invited them within. 
 They were hardly seated in the wooden 
 chairs set so primly around the room, when 
 the musicians, throwing back their sarapes 
 and smiling behind heavy mustaches at the 
 company, glided into a waltz in which the 
 rhythmic beat of the harp followed, and sup 
 ported the swift melody of the violin and 
 guitar. The tune was " La Media Noche " 
 (Midnight) and its cadence was so alluring, 
 its time so perfect, the sway of the players 
 figures so contagious, that any one would 
 have danced whether he knew how or not ; 
 old Don Alberto would have pirouetted if 
 he had been there, and even a cripple with 
 two wooden legs would have made shift to 
 skip about. 
 
A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER 213 
 
 A beardless youth with no collar, and a 
 somewhat disheveled head, who had been 
 looking at the Americanita with apparent 
 approval, asked finally for the honor of her 
 hand in the dance, and they whirled giddily 
 about the brick floor among the other waltz- 
 ers, round and round, and round and round, 
 till Mary, at least, felt like a bluebottle fly 
 on a hot summer afternoon. 
 
 "You would dance very well, senorita, 
 with a little more practice," said the collar- 
 less youth condescendingly, as he seated 
 her. 
 
 " In-deed ! " soliloquized the maiden with 
 a withering glance. " I suppose you thought 
 because I objected to going round the same 
 way all the morning, that I did n t know 
 how to dance. I wish," with a sigh, " Don 
 Eaimundo were here ! " for in the fortnight 
 before the revolution they had taken many 
 little spins together, in the intervals for rest 
 while Lucina was learning the latest fash 
 ionable steps. 
 
 Dawn had peeped in at the window dur 
 ing the first waltz of the Madrugada, and 
 now light refreshments were served and the 
 dancing began anew. It was more agree 
 able, thought Mary, to look on than to par- 
 
214 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 ticipatc, so she declined a second invitation 
 from her beardless gallant, and watched 
 with sincerest admiration the sway of the 
 lithe figures, the twinkle of the arched feet, 
 and the peculiar grace of motion which dis 
 tinguishes the dancers in Spanish countries 
 everywhere. 
 
 At the usual breakfast hour they were 
 invited to the dining-room for a grand re 
 past and then the festival was over, Mary 
 hurrying away to school with a bewildered 
 sensation of complete uncertainty as to either 
 the hour, the year, or the season. 
 
 She was worn out when dusk began to 
 fall, with the interminable length of the day 
 as well as with the unusual character of the 
 festivities, yet she felt that she must go at 
 least as far as the river to watch again, with 
 fascinated eyes, the "No vena de la Santa 
 Cruz," 1 which came to an end that evening. 
 Night after night, as the sun sank below 
 the Window Mountain, she had seen groups 
 of women gathering in the narrow Ceritas 
 streets, and climbing slowly to various points 
 on the high hills back of the town. The 
 foremost among them always bore a table, 
 others a large cross decorated with flowers, 
 
 1 Nine Days Worship of the Holy Cross. 
 
A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER 215 
 
 others still, bouquets, wreaths, and garlands 
 of blossoms. 
 
 Toiling painfully to the top of the high 
 hill, as, the watcher thought with tear-filled 
 eyes, the great Cross-Bearer himself had 
 done so long ago, they cleared a place for 
 the table, set the holy emblem in position, 
 wreathed it with blossoms, and fell upon their 
 knees in adoration. Each evening, as their 
 prayers, in a high-pitched monotone, floated 
 down the hillside, and as the chanting be 
 gan, one long line of women answering the 
 other antiphonally, Mary s heart throbbed 
 with responsive devotion, and she worshiped, 
 too, on her heap of stones by the river-side. 
 
 To-night all the surrounding hilltops 
 were crowned with groups of dark figures, 
 and on one lofty eminence, the highest of 
 all, the worshipers had built a fire behind 
 the object of their devotion, and knelt about 
 it chanting. The brilliant flames against 
 the dusky evening sky, the wreaths of pale 
 smoke, the arms of the cross showing as if 
 sketched in charcoal against the blaze, gave 
 a weird, mysterious effect to the scene, and 
 made one think of the uncanny rites of fire- 
 worshipers, rather than of a religious ser 
 vice in modern Mexico. 
 
216 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " I see," said Mary to herself, as she 
 sauntered thoughtfully homeward, " why 
 they worship the cross on the hilltops, it 
 is to remember Calvary ; but I wonder why 
 the service is held just at this season of the 
 year." 
 
 " Dona Panchita," she asked, dropping 
 down on that lady s doorstep for a moment s 
 chat as she passed, " why do they fix upon 
 this particular time for the Novena de la 
 Santa Cruz ? " 
 
 Mrs. Garcia was sitting at her window 
 with one of her ten in her arms, but she 
 turned to the girl with a sweet, motherly 
 smile. 
 
 " So you ve been on the hills again," she 
 said. " I could not go to-night, for Cata- 
 lina does not seem quite well. 
 
 " How can it be that you should not 
 know why the worship is held at this time ? 
 Ah, I forgot, you have not the happiness to 
 belong to the true faith. Well, I will tell 
 you gladly, for it is a blessed story and one 
 that all should know." 
 
 " The date, Mees Mariquita " impres 
 sively " was adopted by Catholics genera 
 tions ago, to commemorate the finding of the 
 true cross. It seems that the special piece 
 
A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER 217 
 
 of wood on which the Holy One was cruci 
 fied was lost, or perhaps mislaid among the 
 others on Mount Calvary, and thus great 
 confusion was caused and much sorrow to 
 the hearts of the faithful, who spared no 
 effort to bring about the identification of 
 the precious relic. It came to pass that in 
 the midst of this uncertainty there arose a 
 wonderful clairvoyant named Elena, who 
 was reported to be particularly gifted in 
 feats of identification and track - finding. 
 To Calvary, the faithful conducted this wo 
 man, and on the third of May, be the date 
 forever sacred, she found three crosses lying 
 together, which she ordered thrown upon a 
 fire, explaining that they were those of the 
 Christ and the two thieves who suffered with 
 him, and that the unsanctified crosses would 
 be consumed while the holy relic itself would 
 suffer no change. It came to pass as she 
 had prophesied, blessed be her name, and 
 in commemoration of her wonderful powers, 
 she was canonized after her death as Santa 
 Elena, la Rastrera. " 
 
 "Saint Ellen, the Pathfinder, that 
 would not be a bad name for my dear saint 
 in Corona," thought Mary as she strolled to 
 her lodging. " Dear me ! " stopping sud- 
 
218 UNDP:R THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 denly, "how strange and how very, very 
 pretty ! " 
 
 Beside the barber s house across the way, 
 a kind of picturesque white tent had been 
 set up, trimmed inside and out with fresh 
 green branches. Pink tarlatan curtains, 
 edged with lace, veiled the opening of the 
 tent, and red and blue ribbons were every 
 where festooned. A saint s picture hung at 
 the back, surrounded by rosy clouds of the 
 gauzy fabric looped over great white shells, 
 while in front of the picture a high altar 
 was set, draped in white and adorned with 
 burning tapers, flowers, and oranges. 
 
 The little shelter was filled with kneeling 
 women, silently praying, and the soft pink 
 veil that hung between them and the by 
 standers gave the whole scene the effect of 
 a rose-lighted tableau. 
 
 " What is it, oh, what is it, senora ? " Mary 
 whispered, grasping the sleeve of a black- 
 robed figure gliding under the curtains. 
 
 The person addressed turned in surprise, 
 but recognizing the Americanita answered 
 softly, " It is a velorio, 1 daughter, the devo 
 tion of our neighbor to her saint. We pray 
 
 1 Provincial word a "watch-night" of praise and 
 prayer. 
 
A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER 219 
 
 with her, as becomes good friends and good 
 Christians." 
 
 Little Carmen, who was waiting at the 
 door of the lodging, gave the same explana 
 tion, and said that the devotion would last 
 through the night, and that by and by tez- 
 giiin (a native drink made of fermented 
 cracked corn, flavored, spiced, and sweet 
 ened) would be served to all the worshipers. 
 
 " Was it not most beautiful, Mees Mari- 
 quita?" she cried. "I could have re 
 mained there all the night looking at the 
 flowers and the lights and the people. Dona 
 Alexandra is a good Christian indeed ! " 
 
 Mary agreed that it was beautiful, and 
 while people still streamed by her window, 
 intent on seeing the velorio, she jotted down 
 for her home journal a few notes of the two 
 ceremonies she had just witnessed. 
 
 " Oh, that I had Celia s talent for sketch 
 ing ! " she thought, lingering over her writ 
 ing ; " with a few strokes of her pencil she 
 could give an idea of the whole lovely scene, 
 so that aunt Ellen could tell just how every 
 thing looked. Ah, well, we cannot all be 
 so gifted," with a sigh, as she put away her 
 notebook. 
 
 Next morning dawned and there was no 
 
220 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 envy, even of the friendliest kind, of any 
 body s gifts, for it was fair and sunny and 
 bewitching as ever a May morning could be, 
 and as it was Saturday, she had promised to 
 go with all the school-girls for a long ram 
 ble. The excursion proved to be all that 
 had been expected, a delightful, old-time 
 play-day, whose diversions were running 
 races, skipping stones, and wading in the 
 brook, from which everybody came back 
 at noon, warm and breathless, laden with 
 great bunches of wonderful wild flowers. 
 
 Vicente met the chief reveller at her door 
 on her return with a thin package about a 
 foot square, neatly wrapped in brown paper, 
 and addressed as usual in Celia s hand to 
 Miss Mary Annesley, in care of Senor Don 
 Emilio Vazquez. 
 
 " They Ve just brought a bag of news 
 papers and bundles back from Isleta," the 
 lad explained. " It s the mail that went 
 astray last week, but the letters won t be 
 here till this afternoon." 
 
 Mary untied and rolled up the string and 
 folded back the paper with careful hands. 
 
 " Why, what in the world " she cried, 
 for there lay an exquisite sketch in black 
 and white of the Old Maids Hall of the 
 
A BEDQUILT THERMOMETER 221 
 
 future, an exact copy in miniature of that 
 magnificent building as it appeared in the 
 painting hanging upon her dingy walls. 
 
 No, not an exact copy, for behold all the 
 banners in this second picture hung mourn 
 fully at half-mast ! 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha, ha," laughed Mary merrily, 
 startling the squeaking bats in the thatch, 
 " it s Celia s way of announcing that one of 
 the regiment has deserted. How awfully 
 trying that I can t have any letters till this 
 afternoon. I wonder who it can be ! " 
 
 " O h ! " with a prolonged breath, as a 
 second sketch was lifted to the light, " my 
 prophetic soul! is this intended for the 
 4 princess ? " 
 
 In the centre of the picture stood a tall 
 graceful figure in a trailing gown, whose 
 right hand held a dainty handkerchief to 
 her blushing cheeks, while the other, slightly 
 extended, bore on its third finger a mammoth 
 solitaire whose rays streamed to the very 
 edge of the cardboard. 
 
 It was undoubtedly Celia, although the 
 face was hidden. The pose was her very 
 own ; a coronet, this touch evidently in 
 memory of Mary s pet name for her encir 
 cled her sleek, dark head, and yes, there 
 
222 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 was something written in microscopic letters 
 in the lower left-hand corner. 
 
 Mary carried it to the window and read, 
 with a laugh which turned into a sob, and 
 that into a choke, 
 
 " If you Bit in the chimney-corner long; enough, your Jonathan 11 
 come to you, that s what aunt Easter used to say." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 BACANUCHI. 
 
 " HAPPINESS," mused Mary half aloud, 
 " is rather like a spirit-level, is n t it ? the 
 least change of base sets the sensitive liquid 
 within trembling, wavering to and fro." 
 
 Don Andres, by whose side she was seated 
 in the great farm-wagon, glanced at her, but 
 respected her reverie, as well as the foreign 
 tongue, and Tino and Vicente behind con 
 tinued to shout in deafening duet the re 
 frain of the Mexican national hymn : 
 
 " Y retiemble en su centre la tierra 
 Al sonoro rugir del canon." l 
 
 " You will both tremble to your centres 
 in about two minutes, boys," growled their 
 uncle good - humoredly, " if you keep on 
 screaming like Apaches into your teacher s 
 very ear." 
 
 A week s vacation had been declared in 
 the little Ceritas school, and Mary with her 
 
 1 Let the earth shake again to its centre 
 At the sonorous roar of thy cannon. 
 
224 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 precious guitar and a number of dropsical 
 bundles, accompanied by the boys in ob 
 streperously high spirits, was nearing the 
 end of her twenty-mile drive to Bacanuchi. 
 
 It had been a beautiful road they had 
 followed through a fertile and beautiful 
 country, and as it was the first time Mary 
 had left Ceritas since she arrived, the change 
 had proved most welcome. 
 
 They had crossed innumerable clear brooks 
 and running streams during the day, passed 
 countless grain-fields, just turning yellow, 
 groves of splendid cotton woods, and every 
 where seen cacti of every size, blazing with 
 their gorgeous purple, red, and yellow flow 
 ers, here, the tiny, thorny doll s pincush 
 ion, just peeping above ground, there the 
 giant sahuaro, with its monster arms ex 
 tended. 
 
 They had traveled, too, through half a 
 dozen picturesque, tumble-down hamlets, one 
 in particular perched on a cliff like a Rhine 
 village, above a swift-flowing river, with its 
 little church on a steep higher still. Goats 
 had peeped over the summits as they ap 
 proached, and fuzzy gray donkeys, laden 
 with skins of water, balanced each side their 
 pack saddles, were toiling up the rocks, their 
 
BACANUCHI 225 
 
 dark driver turning with an " Avc Maria, 
 amigo," as Don Andres rattled by. 
 
 " Apaches ? " cried Mary, breaking sud 
 denly from her reverie. " Were you talking 
 about Apaches, Don Andres ? " 
 
 " Only telling the boys that they shouted 
 like the red devils, seiiorita." 
 
 " Have they troubled you much of late 
 years, sir ? " 
 
 " No, not seriously ; all the tribes are 
 quieter now, but in my father s time, 
 Ay ! Dios ! " with an expressive gesture. 
 " Have you noted the heaps of stones we 
 have passed to-day? Each one marks the 
 spot where some brave Indian fighter fell, 
 senorita. It is not the Apaches alone that 
 have ravaged poor Sonora, but the Papagos 
 also, the Ceris, and above all, the Yaquis. 
 You have heard of Cajeme, the famous 
 Yaqui chief no ? Many of the ranches 
 have Indian names in this region, Cu- 
 chuta, Turicachi, Bamori, Basochuca, Ba- 
 canuchi. Ba means water in the Opata 
 dialect, you know." 
 
 " Thou wilt tell us some Indian tales when 
 we get home, wilt thou not, little uncle ? " 
 cried Tino, with a choking embrace from 
 behind. 
 
226 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Let me go, lad, and sit down, or I 11 
 make thee walk the rest of the way. Watch 
 now, seuorita, for it is about the hour that 
 they promised to meet us." 
 
 "Lucina and Dona Rosita? Oh, how 
 delightful ! " 
 
 " Yes, and your friend, Seiior Altamirano, 
 too. He is just from the mines, and brings 
 letters from Emilio and Barbarita." 
 
 " Raimundo ! " exclaimed the boys, while 
 Mary looked her pleasure. " Raimundo ! 
 Blessed be all the saints! Now, why not 
 have told us before, little uncle ? " 
 
 " What opportunity have I had to tell 
 thee anything with thy shouts and thy cries 
 and thy songs? Besides, I have an idea 
 that he wanted to surprise some of you," 
 with a side glance at Mary. " Tumble 
 down, boys, quickly now, there they are ! " 
 
 The little group indeed appeared at this 
 moment, Lucina, a perfect magnolia blos 
 som in her white gown, running toward 
 the wagon with cries of delight. Doiia Ro 
 sita, wrapped in her inevitable black shawl, 
 wisely stood still to receive the onslaught 
 and the fierce embraces of her sons, and 
 Raimundo, with bared head and radiant 
 smile, hastened to assist Miss Annesley to 
 alight. 
 
BACANUCHI 227 
 
 "Oh, Lucina, thou dear one, how well 
 thou dost look ! " 
 
 " Ay, Mees Mariquita mia, what joy to 
 see you ! " were the first words that issued 
 half inaudible from the close embrace. 
 
 " Don t you dare to call me c Miss any 
 longer, Lucina," whispered Mary ; " we re 
 friends now, and I want my home name 
 here. 
 
 " Don Raimundo," turning with extended 
 hand to that cavalier, " I did not half greet 
 you when you helped me down. I am so 
 glad to see you after all this time. You are 
 well?" 
 
 " In perfect health, and at your feet, as 
 always, Mariquita," using the pretty phrase 
 with the native grace of his people. 
 
 By this time Mrs. Mariscal had come up, 
 and with a warm embrace repeated Lucina s 
 welcome, and, as the wagon had rattled along 
 by this time, they all set off down the hill, 
 everybody talking at once, and Faustino 
 stopping to turn occasional somersaults of 
 joy, followed by shrill shrieks, like an engine 
 blowing off steam. 
 
 The ranch house lay at the foot of the hill, 
 
 a simple place enough, but beautifully set 
 
 in a soft green valley, beside an immense 
 
228 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 cottonwoocl that spread its branches over 
 the dwelling beneath, as an eagle shadows 
 its nest. A white, turbulent brook foamed 
 along a few rods from the door, the fences 
 everywhere were wreathed with blooming 
 clematis, and over the entrance was a porch 
 of rough poles, roofed with green boughs, 
 where two wood doves cooed in a wicker 
 cage. 
 
 Mrs. Mariscal took Mary into her arms 
 again as she crossed the threshold. 
 
 " Welcome, daughter mine," she cried, 
 " it is a poor place, but it is at your 
 orders." 
 
 The mud walls within were not even 
 whitewashed, the floors were of earth, but 
 the straw mats, or esteras, that partially 
 covered them were fresh and dainty, and 
 everything was immaculately clean. 
 
 Mary s room, the abode of honor, was 
 provided with a grand brass bedstead, and 
 the gratings of her deeply recessed windows 
 were swept by the soft green boughs with 
 out. When the fortunate guest sank to 
 sleep there in the summer evening, she felt 
 as if her load of cares had all dropped from 
 her shoulders as Christian s did, when he 
 came up with the cross, and to the lullaby 
 
BACANUCHI 229 
 
 of rustling leaves and rippling brook she 
 slept as she had not done since her protectors 
 left Ceritas. 
 
 She was dreaming that she was a wild 
 flower with the rain softly falling on her 
 petals, when she wakened to see Lucina s 
 mischievous face pressed against her win 
 dow-bars, and her dripping hands just about 
 to precipitate another shower. 
 
 " Awake, you little sleeper, 
 The cuckoo calls you loud." 
 
 she sang in her careful English. 
 
 "I ve been up an hour," dropping into 
 conversation, " and here s a great olla l of 
 lovely fresh water for you from the brook. 
 May I bring it in ? " 
 
 Oh, how sweet it was to bathe in the 
 cool water, so lately from the stream that it 
 seemed still dancing and rippling, how sweet 
 was the June air blowing in her window 
 the breath of leagues of grass and flowers, 
 how strange and tender the coo, coo of the 
 doves in the porch, how delightful to feel 
 herself a part of the big, merry, affectionate 
 household, and how pleasant to be again the 
 recipient of Raimundo s graceful courtesies. 
 
 1 Earthen jar. 
 
230 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " He seems positively cheerful," thought 
 Mary, " and quite young and boyish. It 
 would hardly be appropriate to call him 
 the Knight of the Rueful Countenance any 
 longer. I wonder what s the matter with 
 him. It must be the country air, I sup 
 pose." 
 
 " Come, my Meh-ree," cried Lucina, after 
 breakfast. " Come, boys, come, Mamacita, 
 come, everybody ; we are going out to see 
 all the beauties of Bacanuchi." 
 
 "Take the senorita to the Indian huts 
 first, Lucina," called Raimundo, who was 
 smoking under the cottonwood. 
 
 "The ranch is worked by peones, you 
 know, Mariquita," explained Mrs. Mariscal, 
 as they set out, " most of them Yaquis and 
 all of them Christians, or semi-Christians. 
 Andres has them live a little below here, 
 across the brook in a settlement all together, 
 and Raimundo seems to want you to see it, 
 though I don t know why, for there s no 
 thing interesting about it." 
 
 Mary s unaccustomed eyes were delighted, 
 however, with the picturesque scene that 
 greeted them as they neared the settlement. 
 Dusky, wrinkled squaws were kneeling by 
 the brook, pounding the linen of the great 
 
BACANUCHI 231 
 
 house on smooth stones, the bubbles and 
 lather from the soap floating like foam-bells 
 in the smooth pool below ; gray-skinned, 
 hairless dogs, or " bichis," flew barking from 
 the huts ; a quantity of fresh meat, hung on 
 ropes, was drying in the sunshine ; dirty, 
 half-naked children played about the doors, 
 and several young girls, with greasy black 
 fringes of hair hanging to their eyebrows, 
 were busily grinding shelled corn in hollow 
 stone vessels. 
 
 " That stone implement they hold in their 
 hands is called a mano, Mariquita, and the 
 vessel is a metate," said Mrs. Mariscal, stop 
 ping to look at them. " Now they will boil 
 that corn with a little slaked lime in the 
 water, wash it until the skin comes off, and 
 grind it on the metate again to make meal 
 for tortillas de maiz. That is just the way 
 I have it done at the house. And then they 
 cook the tortillas on an earthen dish, or a 
 piece of iron heated over the blaze." 
 
 " Tortillas de maiz very good," grunted 
 one of the girls, looking up from her la 
 bors. 
 
 " It seems hard enough work to make 
 them," commented Mary, " they ought to 
 be good. . . . 
 
232 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 "Oh, aren t those particularly hideous 
 little dogs ! Their horrid bare skins and 
 the few hairs cropping out here and there 
 give one the creeps." 
 
 "They are very much prized," said Lu- 
 cina, " and they are supposed," with a shiver 
 of repulsion, " to be a sure cure for con 
 sumption if they sleep with you at night. I 
 have always said I d rather die at once, for 
 my part. Come mama, there are too many 
 dogs and babies here. Let us go to the 
 orchards." 
 
 The Indian huts into which they peeped 
 here and there, on their way back, were 
 clean, but bare of furniture, evidently being 
 regarded as shelters only, although in each 
 one was a picture of the patron saint and 
 several smoothly woven petates. 1 
 
 " The Yaqui wants but little here below. 
 A metate and a petate are all he needs to set 
 up housekeeping," laughed Raimundo, who 
 met them as they were turning into the 
 apricot orchard. " Are you so hungry that 
 you must have fruit or die, ladies ? for Don 
 Andres is going up the canon after wood 
 with Azabache and Copeton, 2 and the boys 
 
 1 Mats made of palm fibre. 
 
 2 Jet and Cropple Crown. 
 
BACANUCHI 233 
 
 want you to come and ride in the ox 
 cart." 
 
 " Oh, that will be gay ! " cried Lucina, 
 " but is it safe for Meh-ree, do you think, 
 the oxen are so wild? " 
 
 " I think so. Your uncle understands the 
 beasts, and I will go to manage the boys. 
 I 11 bring them all back safe, Dona Kosita, 
 if you 11 let them go." 
 
 " I have no doubt of you, Raimundo. Go 
 in peace, children ! " with a wave of the 
 hand. 
 
 Azabache and Copeton, small wiry little 
 oxen yoked by the horns and driven with 
 a crooked stick, sauntered placidly up the 
 canon through the avenue of willows, rather 
 as if they had intended going there any way, 
 than as if obedient to their master s com 
 mands ; and, arrived at their destination, 
 while the cart was being loaded the girls 
 and their cavalier rested in the dappled 
 shade by the brookside. 
 
 "You have not said a word to me yet 
 about my cousin s engagement, Lucina," 
 cried Mary suddenly, as they munched the 
 piiiones (pine-nuts) with which their pockets 
 were filled. " And I wrote you how much 
 I wanted sympathy. It was such a dreadful 
 
234 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 shock and surprise, and I did n t get my 
 letters of explanation for hours after those 
 pictures came." 
 
 " Such a shock ! " smiled Lucina. " "Why 
 mama said as soon as I read her your letter 
 that she d expected it from the first." 
 
 " Expected it ? " in astonishment. " Why, 
 how could she, when she did n t know 
 them?" 
 
 " Ah, but I had told her all about them, 
 and she knew your cousin was young and 
 beautiful, and her neighbor," this in a 
 very grown-up tone, " young and wanting 
 nothing but a wife." 
 
 " That is n t the same thing as getting 
 one," commented Raimundo. " How is this, 
 Mariquita ; has the lovely cousin you so 
 often described deserted the Sisterhood of 
 Spinsters she joined so formally, and will 
 she never occupy the grand mansion you 
 showed me ? Ah, what a grievous breach 
 of faith ! Well say the poets that women s 
 promises are writ in water ! " 
 
 " You must n t laugh, Don Raimundo," 
 with a frown and a blush. " You don t know 
 how hard it has been for me. Just think, 
 I never even saw Mr. Hunter, the man she s 
 going to marry, and it does seem so impos- 
 
BACANUCHI 235 
 
 sible that every thought of her life now 
 should be centred in this perfect stranger, 
 or one who was a perfect stranger a year 
 ago. And think of all the promises and 
 solemn vows she made me never to marry ! 
 Oh, I m jealous, I know it," and she brushed 
 away a tear, " but I try to overcome it and 
 I do love her so." 
 
 " Pobrecita ! " (poor little one) murmured 
 Raimundo, and Lucina touched her hand 
 with a swift caress. 
 
 " It upsets all my future plans, too," plain 
 tively, " and the great career I was going to 
 have. If Celia marries, I must go home and 
 take care of my aunt, of course, and though 
 that would be a joy as well as a duty, it will 
 be very difficult to find the kind of work I 
 can do in Corona. I wanted," half laugh 
 ing, " to make a fortune for my family and 
 take it with me in doubloons when I went 
 back to California." 
 
 " Meh-ree ! " gasped Lucina, turning a 
 little pale, " you are not thinking of leaving 
 us?" 
 
 "Mariquita, you are not really going?" 
 exclaimed Raimundo. 
 
 " Oh, no, I hope not ; certainly not at 
 present, anyway, for Celia says she will 
 
236 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 never marry until my aunt s affairs are set 
 tled in such a way that she can have her 
 home free of encumbrance, and have enough 
 to live on in some comfort." 
 
 " And what does the lover say to that ? " 
 asked Raimundo, with a smile at this frank 
 statement of family affairs. 
 
 " He wants them both, and me, too, to 
 give up Glen Ellen and come to him this 
 Christmas, but my aunt is not willing to do 
 that, and neither am I," with a toss of her 
 curly head. " I am young and strong, and 
 I can work for both of us." 
 
 " Brave little woman ! " murmured Rai 
 mundo, " you deserve " 
 
 " Lucina ! Mees Meh-ree ! Raimundo ! " 
 shouted Vicente from the cart at this junc 
 ture. " Are you all deaf ? I Ve been call 
 ing you for five minutes. Uncle is ready 
 and Azabache is fretting to be gone." 
 
 The girls, protesting that they had only 
 just come and that it could n t be nearly 
 time to go home, scrambled upon the wood 
 as best they could, and the oxen set off, 
 running like frolicsome calves. Not a vestige 
 of the calmness with which they had come 
 up the canon was now to be seen ; they were 
 agile, headstrong, reckless, thinking only of 
 
BACANUCHI 237 
 
 dinner, deaf to their drivers commands, and 
 heedless of the shouts of Raimundo and the 
 boys who ran beside them, panting. 
 
 They had crossed the brook twenty-one 
 times coming up the caiion, as Mary had 
 counted, and all these shallow fords had 
 now to be made again, with the disadvan 
 tage of an insecure perch on a shaky load of 
 wood. Mary held to the cart on one side 
 and clutched Lucina s hand on the other, 
 half frightened, half elated by the swift mo 
 tion, but not a saint remained in the calen 
 dar upon whose protection the latter maiden 
 did not call before the journey was accom 
 plished. 
 
 The oxen galloped on at full speed, run 
 ning over stumps and under trees, splash 
 ing through pools, knocking off Mary s 
 hat, tearing Lucina s reboso from her head, 
 racing wildly through a meadow waving with 
 flowers, crossing with breakneck speed the 
 plain in front of the house, and finally, 
 with a last explosion of energy, dragged the 
 whole load, girls and all, into the very mid 
 dle of the stream, where they stood with 
 heaving flanks and drooping heads. 
 
 Raimundo, breathless and laughing, waded 
 
238 BACANUCHI 
 
 in after them, and held up his arms to carry 
 the disheveled damsels to shore. 
 
 " I have heard of Europa s ride on the 
 white bull," he said, " but this was like to 
 have been an even more adventurous jour 
 ney." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING. 
 
 IT was evening at Bacanuchi ; a yellow 
 summer moon hung halfway up the hea 
 vens; the ripples of the brook shone like 
 molten silver ; the mocking-birds fluted and 
 trilled and rhapsodized over in the orchard, 
 and from the Indian huts floated a quaver 
 ing song that thrilled the ear with its strange 
 beauty. 
 
 " Ay, Manavei ! Ay, Manavei ! " sang the 
 high falsetto voices, the last notes prolonged 
 in octave until the sounds fainted and died 
 trembling away. It was a " testiguin " they 
 were crooning, one of those strange minor 
 melodies half song, half chant, whose ca 
 dences betray an alien race, an alien thought, 
 and breathe a heavy unconscious melan 
 choly. 
 
 The family was gathered on the grass 
 in the warm June moonlight, Don Andres 
 smoking, and the boys unwontedly quiet, 
 one at his mother s knee, the other perched 
 
240 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 on the arm of his uncle s chair. Lucina 
 sat on the ground, with her head on Mary s 
 knee ; Raiinundo, near them, idly touched the 
 guitar with his supple fingers, and in the 
 background crouched one or two of the house 
 servants, their heads as usual shrouded in 
 rebosos. 
 
 " Would that Emilio and Barbarita were 
 here ! " sighed Doiia Rosita. 
 
 " Would they were ! " echoed Raiinundo, 
 " but I hardly think they can return before 
 August, at the rate they are traveling now." 
 
 " I wish not only they, but every one I 
 ever knew, could have been at Bacanuchi 
 this heavenly week," cried Mary impetu 
 ously. " How my aunt and cousin would 
 have enjoyed it ! and Lucina," in a lowered 
 tone, " I always think when I hear the 
 peones singing, how my friend, 4 el Seiior 
 Jack, as you used to call him, would have 
 delighted in their music. He was perfectly 
 fascinated with the two or three Spanish 
 songs we heard in Tontin." 
 
 " Poor boy, may he rest in peace ! " 
 breathed Lucina softly, glancing at the for 
 get-me-not locket, as it shone on Mary s 
 neck. 
 
 A little silence fell upon the group, though 
 
MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING 241 
 
 no one had heard the half -whispered words 
 of the two girls, and in the interval the 
 caged doves upon the wall rustled and cooed 
 a soft complaint. 
 
 " Sing one of your English songs, will 
 you not, Mariquita ? " begged Raimundo, 
 handing her the guitar ; " sing Annie 
 Laurie, is not that the name ? " 
 
 " It shall be a duet, then," answered the 
 girl. " Lucinita knows all the words now. 
 Sing, dear one, with me." 
 
 As the last " I d lay me down and die " 
 faded into the air, Mary said reflectively, 
 fingering the Mexican eagle as it swung 
 from the guitar ribbons, " I don t seem to 
 care as much as I used, somehow, about 
 singing in English. I believe I m infatu 
 ated with Spanish, with its lilt, its musical 
 cadence, the rise and fall of its long words, 
 the liquid way it pours out, its sonorous syl 
 lables when you want to say anything mag 
 nificent, the pretty way it has of putting 
 things, its tender diminutives, oh, I love 
 them all ! " 
 
 " That is a charming tribute to the Cas- 
 tilian, seiiorita," said Raimundo with an ad 
 miring glance, " and of course we can but 
 think it well deserved." 
 
242 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " It is the most beautiful language in the 
 world, sir," cried Don Andres, knocking the 
 ash from his cigarrito, and thus accidentally 
 launched upon his favorite subject, he sailed 
 off with tremendous impetus. 
 
 The boys, inwardly restive under this, to 
 them, extremely abstract conversation, lis 
 tened with respectful gravity, but Tino took 
 advantage of the first pause to say plain 
 tively, " You promised to tell us some In 
 dian tales before we went back to school, 
 little uncle, and it is the last night." 
 
 " What? Indian tales?" stopped in mid- 
 career, and returning with difficulty to every 
 day matters. " So I did, my boy, but you 
 know all mine since long ago. Ask Rai- 
 inundo there, his men in the mines must 
 have told him mountains of them." 
 
 " Raimundo shall tell afterwards, if he 
 will, but first, little dear uncle, tell about 
 grandpapa and the spider web." 
 
 " Oh yes, oh yes ! the spider web ! " cried 
 Vicente, dancing up and down. " I had 
 almost forgotten it." 
 
 44 Well, sit down, then, boys. I cannot 
 talk unless you are quiet. It is a story 
 of my father s youth, seiiorita," turning to 
 Mary. 44 Rosita here has often heard him 
 
MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING 243 
 
 tell it, and knows that he would never suffer a 
 spider to be killed anywhere about the ranch. 
 " Listen then, little sons, and hear of thy 
 grandfather s deliverance." 
 
 THE STORY OF THE SPIDER WEB. 
 
 The Yaquis, you know, children, are phy 
 sically the finest Indians that we have in 
 Sonora, and we call them " the arms of the 
 state." They are good farmers and miners, 
 good workers in every way when they are 
 not at war ; and in other days, when it was 
 the custom to hire them to convoy the silver 
 trains to the settlements, they always kept 
 their contracts honestly, and could be trusted 
 to beat off the Apache raiders, for they are 
 splendid fighters, as we have good reason to 
 know. 
 
 They were early Christianized, in the ordi 
 nary sense of the term, and I am not sure 
 but that the government would have had less 
 difficulty with them in times past, if the 
 meddlesome ones among the priests had 
 kept their hands off the converts. However, 
 that is as it may be ; the real cause of 
 trouble between the Mexicans and the 
 Yaquis from the first has been the rich lands 
 
244 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 they held on the Yaqui River. The Indians 
 have never been able to adjust their titles 
 to modern law, and in consequence they have 
 always had to fight the covetousness of their 
 neighbors. 
 
 The regular troops have been sent against 
 them on many occasions and been beaten 
 too, sometimes, though they have often suc 
 ceeded in storming their adobe forts and 
 capturing their leaders. Cajeme, their fa 
 mous chief, was killed, you know, while try 
 ing to escape from the soldiers ; but still, in 
 spite of their losses, the Yaquis have never 
 been subdued. 
 
 Well, one season many years ago, the tide 
 of battle ran against them, and they retreated 
 before the troops up the Yaqui River to the 
 desolate Sierra Madre ranges, where they 
 knew every rock and pass, and could not be 
 dislodged. 
 
 When all was quiet once more, when the 
 soldiers had departed, and their lands were 
 all occupied, they sallied down again and 
 drove off the settlers, and then spread over 
 the country, attacking and robbing lonely 
 hamlets here and there, probably in revenge 
 for their wrongs. 
 
 Among other places, they descended upon 
 
MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING 245 
 
 Bacanuchi, and as your great-grandfather, 
 luckily enough, was not at home, not having 
 heard that the devils had risen, they met 
 with very little resistance. My grandmo 
 ther and the younger children were warned 
 in time, and managed to escape to the next 
 ranch ; so the redskins got what they really 
 wanted, which was horses and grain, and 
 made off with their booty. 
 
 But some of them had seen my father, 
 who had been guarding the horses, a lad 
 of sixteen years perhaps, then, running up 
 the canon like the wind when he heard their 
 war whoops. There was no time for pursuit 
 at the moment, but when all was over, two 
 or three of the braves started to kill or cap 
 ture him, fearing, probably, that he would 
 spread the alarm through the country. 
 Doubtless it was child s play for them to 
 trace him with a lifetime of such work be 
 hind them, though the poor lad had doubled 
 on his tracks, waded along the streams, and 
 tried in every way he knew to deceive them. 
 They followed him like bloodhounds, though, 
 and at last he could see from the rocks, 
 where he lay panting and exhausted, the 
 ripple that ran through the branches as they 
 parted them below in the valley. 
 
246 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 He could run no farther, and looking 
 around despairingly, with an agonized 
 prayer for deliverance in his heart, there, 
 just within sight, lay a great hollow log 
 half covered with grass and leaves. It was 
 the only possible refuge and seemed a 
 poor one enough at best, but he forced him 
 self into the opening, heels first, lifting the 
 grasses and smoothing the earth after him 
 as well as he could, and lay there with the 
 worms and the wood-lice, as silent as they. 
 
 Now it happened, thanks to the most 
 Holy Virgin and the glorious saints, that a 
 spider began to spin her blessed web over 
 the end of the log as he crouched there, trem 
 bling, and when it was finished, a passing 
 shower fell and filled it with crystal drops. 
 
 The Indians came along in due time, 
 swift and sure on their noiseless feet, and his 
 track having mysteriously disappeared, as it 
 seemed, they sat down on .that very log to 
 rest a bit. 
 
 Doubtless they saw the spider web, and 
 took the drops glistening upon it to be the 
 morning dew not yet dried away in that cool 
 retreat. Whatever they may have thought, 
 it is certain that they never suspected they 
 were seated almost upon the body of their 
 
MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING 247 
 
 trembling quarry, so after a time they made 
 off again, and at nightfall he crawled from 
 his shelter and thanked his God for the 
 spider s protection. 
 
 "And the grandpapa would never have 
 a spider killed, nor a web touched in the 
 house, after that day, boys," exclaimed Dona 
 Rosita. " When it came to my sainted 
 mother s time, if she desired to have the 
 rooms cleaned, she must attend to it in his 
 absence." 
 
 " Ah, that was a good story," sighed Vi 
 cente, with a deep breath of satisfaction. 
 " Now more Indians, more Indians, Rai- 
 mundo, if you please." 
 
 " Shall I tell thee about the attack the 
 Apaches once made on the Manzanas sheep- 
 ranch? One of my guides gave me the 
 story while we were riding over the hills 
 the other day." 
 
 " Oh, yes, an Apache tale, they are al 
 ways good," cried the boys, settling them 
 selves in expectant attitudes. 
 
 " You are not tired of Indians, Mariquita ? 
 Very well, then, I 11 go on with the Moon 
 light Night s Entertainment," said Rai- 
 mundo. 
 
248 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 THE TALE OF THE GRATEFUL SQUAW. 
 
 My guide, Don Manuel Maria Torres, 
 of Tontin, and I were riding near the ruins 
 of the Manzanas Mission one afternoon, 
 when we came upon a circular inclosure 
 about twenty feet in diameter and four feet 
 high, with only one large opening, that ap 
 parently served as entrance. The wall was 
 made up of massive boulders, and here and 
 there among them breaches had been left, 
 which had evidently served to shoot from 
 while protected by the fortification. 
 
 I was naturally interested, and asked Don 
 Manuel if he knew when and for what pur 
 pose this fort-like inclosure had been built. 
 
 His eyes flashed and he answered quickly, 
 " I know what it was used for once, when I 
 received what came near being my death 
 wound." He then went on to tell me he 
 is a great story-teller, that back in the for 
 ties, when the country belonged to Mexico, 
 a small body of troops under the command 
 of Don Hilarion Garcia, a famous Indian 
 fighter, was stationed at the Tontin presidio, 
 and was chiefly used to defend the settlers 
 against the savages. 
 
 The Tumacacori and Manzanas Indian 
 
MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING 249 
 
 missions had been entirely depopulated, so 
 he said, by the long-continued raids of the 
 Apaches, and their lands had therefore been 
 granted by the government to Don Estevaii 
 Carrillo, who had established a large sheep- 
 ranch thereon. The settlement was still fre 
 quently descended upon by the tribe, whose 
 stronghold was the neighboring mountains, 
 but it managed to hold along in some way ; 
 and the herders had built, besides the de 
 fenses at Manzanas, several fortifications on 
 prominent hills, from which they watched 
 their sheep and defended them from ma 
 rauding bands of savages. 
 
 Now it seems that Carrillo, the owner of 
 the ranch, was a kind and a merciful man, 
 and finding one day on the hills, as he rode 
 among his sheep, an Apache squaw with a 
 papoose by her side, apparently deserted 
 by her tribe, and in a dying condition, he 
 took her before him on his horse, and car 
 ried her to the ranch. 
 
 She was nursed and tended, and when she 
 recovered, went back to the mountains with 
 her child, a weakly little thing; but not 
 until, in her half-unintelligible way, she had 
 sworn the eternal gratitude of Nashpevah 
 that was her name to the whole Carrillo 
 family. 
 
250 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Well, one cold winter s night the Tontin 
 presidio was thrown into great excitement 
 by the sound of the drum, a general alarm 
 which summoned all able-bodied men to 
 appear at the garrison armed and mounted. 
 My guide, Senor Torres, was one of those 
 who obeyed the call ; and upon arriving, 
 he was told that an Apache squaw had 
 just arrived from the Chiricahua mountains, 
 having been on the road two days and two 
 nights without food ; and had told the com 
 mandant that the day before she left the 
 Indian camp, a party of fifty braves had 
 gone on the war path, and that their objec 
 tive point was Carrillo s sheep -ranch at 
 Manzanas. 
 
 It was found upon further questioning 
 that the ghastly, haggard creature was no 
 other than Nashpevah, the squaw whom 
 Carrillo had befriended, and when she had 
 told her story she sank to the ground, faint 
 ing with exhaustion. 
 
 Don Hilarion resolved to go to the rescue 
 of the ranch, and with forty of his best men 
 and ten of the bravest neighbors, among 
 whom was my guide, he started that same 
 night, riding sixty-five miles by early dawn. 
 Arrived within the walls at Manzanas, 
 
MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING 251 
 
 Garcia and his men took but a short rest, 
 and swallowed a mouthful of breakfast, for 
 several signal fires had already been observed 
 on the neighboring hills, and an attack was 
 expected by sunrise. 
 
 It fell out as they feared; the Apaches, 
 shouting that terrible war whoop of theirs, 
 fell upon the ranch early in the morning, but 
 as my guide graphically remarked, " Vinie- 
 ron por lana y salieron trasquilados." 1 
 
 They descended in a body to annihilate a 
 feeble body of herders, as they thought, but 
 thanks to the message of the grateful squaw, 
 they were greeted instead by the fire of 
 fifty men. 
 
 Seilor Torres said that the braves were 
 actually paralyzed with astonishment for a 
 moment, and stood wavering under the ter 
 rible fire, uncertain what to do. About 
 twenty of them were shot down on the at 
 tack, twelve more on the pursuit, and six of 
 the finest warriors, who had climbed into the 
 stone fortification, fought like demons till 
 their ammunition was exhausted, when 
 t was the fortune of war, boys, we must all 
 expect it they were captured and shot on 
 the spot. 
 
 1 " They came for wool and went back shorn themselves." 
 
252 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Brave Nashpe vah," cried Mary. " Was n t 
 that splendid! I wonder what became of 
 her and if she ever went back to her tribe." 
 
 " Oh no, she could not have done that," 
 answered Don Andres. " She would know 
 too well that such a course would mean in 
 stant death. Her child had probably died, 
 she would never have deserted it, that is 
 certain, and she was resolved to spend her 
 last breath in the service of those who had 
 once befriended it and her." 
 
 " She was a faithful creature," said Dona 
 Rosita, "no matter what color she was, and 
 she held love and gratitude above the claims 
 of blood and kindred." 
 
 " Oh, tell us just one more story, Rai- 
 mundo," pleaded Lucina. " Tell us that 
 about 4 One-eyed Tutije, you remember? 
 You heard it at the Mababi ranch." 
 
 " No," said her mother decidedly, " you 
 hear of no more Indians to-night, either one- 
 eyed or two-eyed. Look at Faustinito, talk 
 ing of eyes. He resembles nothing so much 
 as a horned owl, with his hair standing up 
 straight on his head. Run along, my chil 
 dren. You have a long drive to Ceritas 
 to-morrow. Good-night, every one ! I must 
 look after my little ones. Come, Lucina ! " 
 
MOONLIGHT AND STORY-TELLING 253 
 
 " Good - night," said Mary. "I shall 
 never forget this lovely evening, Doria 
 Rosita, nor my visit to this dear place. . . . 
 Ah, the moon is brighter than ever, is it 
 not, and bed seems an absurdity. Must we 
 leave thee, Paradise ? 
 
 " The last evening we talked so late was 
 at your window, the night of my little affair 
 with the revolutionists, do you remember, 
 Mariquita?" 
 
 "Remember? Oh, yes, and how fright 
 ened I was, and how long ago it seems ! . . . 
 Yes, yes, I m coming, Lucina. Good-night 
 then, Raimundo. It is a better good-night 
 than that last one, no ? " 
 
 " Better, indeed. Good-night, little friend. 
 Sleep sweetly." 
 
 Mary s light step crossed the threshold. 
 She was gone, and the Knight of the Rueful 
 Countenance mused in the moonlight, while 
 the mocking birds still fluted in the 
 orchard. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MIDSUMMER DAYS. 
 
 JUNE clays had softly slipped away and 
 the glory of midsummer rested on Sonora. 
 Everywhere doves, mocking birds, cardinals 
 hung in their cages on the brown walls, coo 
 ing and lilting in the sunshine, and the 
 landlady s green paroquet shrieked from 
 morning till night, " Cafe, mama ! cafe, 
 mama ! " as he writhed and twisted on his 
 perch. The red-winged blackbirds thronged 
 the cactus fences by day, singing in their 
 rough voices a melody that always sounded 
 to Mary like a passage in the overture to 
 44 Lucia," and at evening, music was heard 
 from harp or guitar along the streets and 
 at the door of almost every humble dwell 
 ing. 
 
 The bats squeaked merrily all the hours 
 of light in the old cactus ceiling, and at 
 dusk swooped in clouds through open win 
 dow and door, but Mary had grown some 
 what wonted by this time to these con- 
 
MIDSUMMER DAYS 255 
 
 stant home companions, and really grieved 
 when occasionally she found a rash victim 
 of thirst drowned in her earthen water- 
 pitcher. 
 
 Fruit and vegetables were plenty now, a 
 welcome addition to the simple meals, and 
 as the girls strolled by the blank, expres 
 sionless houses, they could see through the 
 arched entrances, their great doors set wide 
 open to the summer, the sunrise flush of 
 tangled sweet peas and poppies in every 
 bright garden beyond. 
 
 The long-expected thunderstorms had be 
 gun, rolling, crashing, pealing, almost every 
 afternoon, and torrents of rain poured down 
 the chimney of Mary s room, sweeping out 
 upon the floor and filling every hollow be 
 tween the worn bricks, so that the laughing 
 girls had frequently to leap from one dry 
 spot to another, as they made their arduous 
 progress about the apartment. 
 
 It was hot in the lodging, hotter still at 
 Mrs. Garcia s, hottest of all in school, and 
 the temperature appeared to have a baleful 
 effect on the tempers of some of the chil 
 dren, who were as restless as eels in frying- 
 pans and inclined to be somewhat captious 
 and irritable. 
 
25C UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Nothing at all has happened since we left 
 Bacanuchi, (Mary had written, as she hrought 
 her home journal up to date,) save the interest 
 ing proceedings on St. John s Day, June twenty- 
 fourth, and I Ve meant ever since to tell you about 
 them. 
 
 It seems that at sunrise on that date, the In 
 dians everywhere in Mexico those who are 
 Christians, I mean take from their chapels 
 and their huts such images as they possess of St. 
 John the Baptist, who is the most popular saint 
 among them, immerse them in the waters of 
 some running stream, and then solemnly bathe 
 there themselves, taking care to stand directly 
 in the current of the sanctified waters. Padre 
 Romero, the priest here, whom I asked for an 
 explanation of the custom, said that the bathers 
 were thus supposed to be rebaptized each year, 
 or cleansed afresh from all their sins, and that it 
 was really a most beautiful ceremony, when, as 
 in the larger villages, crowds of Indians holding 
 the blessed images came in chanting procession 
 to the streams. 
 
 As to the festivities afterward, the priest 
 could give no explanation, unless, he said, they 
 sprang from the joy of the soul, all whose guilt 
 had been washed away. I thought privately 
 there might be a physical as well as a spiritual 
 reason for joy, as many of these people bathe 
 only once in the year, but I did not obtrude 
 
MIDSUMMER DAYS 257 
 
 so unpoetic an explanation on the reverend 
 father. 
 
 Well, this ceremony was only the beginning 
 of the day, and of course I did n t see that part 
 at all, being wrapped in heretic slumbers. Later 
 on, when I came home from school, for we 
 had a half-holiday, the streets were absolutely 
 crowded with riders, both Indians and Mexicans, 
 of the lower classes, and this is what I wanted 
 the priest to explain, what horseback-riding 
 has to do with St. John. I never heard that he 
 had any connection with horses, did you ? 
 
 The women were all seated in front of the 
 men, just the reverse of our old New England 
 custom, you see, and it looked very picturesque, 
 though perhaps a trifle affectionate for people 
 who are so over-particular and prudish in some 
 other respects. 
 
 The woman sits on the saddle, sidewise of 
 course, and the man rides behind her with his 
 right arm round her waist and his left over her 
 shoulder, holding the reins. The Mexicans were 
 in their gayest riding-dress, wide gray and black 
 felt hats with silver cords and tassels, short em 
 broidered riding- jackets, and all the rest of the 
 pretty costume, though none of them could com 
 pare for a moment with the beautiful things the 
 K. of R. C. sometimes wears. 
 
 The women and girls were dressed as usual, 
 I suppose, for nothing could be seen but rebosos, 
 
258 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 but what chattering and laughing, and what 
 gayety there was in the narrow streets as the 
 horses trotted by ! 
 
 Lucina and I were at our door looking out 
 and enjoying it all, when Don Raimundo drove 
 by with the white horses that brought me here 
 from the mill when I first came ; and in a mo 
 ment Salomd Garcia came running over to say 
 that he had come to take me to drive. What 
 fun, I thought, though it s odd he did n t call 
 here for me ; and I caught up my hat and flew, 
 with Lucina at my heels. 
 
 Arrived at Mrs. Garcfa s, I found that the 
 way Don Quixote takes Dulcinea to drive in 
 Mexico is to invite her whole family, so we 
 packed in, all of us, Lucina, and Salome*, and 
 Mrs. Garcia, and at least three of the babies. 
 We had a charming time, though, and Don Rai 
 mundo was as nice as he could be, and let me 
 drive all the way. Ladies never drive, you know, 
 in this country, so everybody we met stared as 
 if I d been walking the tight-rope. 
 
 Raimundo has been at the mines since I saw 
 him, and has met Mr. Vazquez, and they cannot 
 return before the last of August, it seems. Of 
 course, it is n t so bad now that I m somewhat 
 used to the loneliness, and everybody is very 
 kind, but oh, for a good long English talk with 
 " Miss Barbara " once more ! 
 
 The K. of R. C. stayed to supper after our 
 
MIDSUMMER DAYS 259 
 
 drive, and we had frijoles cooked with Chili pep 
 per, and stewed cheese with a thin, hot sauce 
 poured over it, and dried-meat broth and tamales, 
 and all kinds of magnificence, and as I had a 
 slight headache, Mrs. Garcia ordered tea made 
 for me with stick cinnamon steeped in it. No 
 body drinks tea here except as medicine, you 
 know. 
 
 You will think the description of the day is 
 never going to end, dear people, but there s 
 more of it still. There was a grand ball in the 
 evening, and we all went to look on for a while, 
 no, not quite all, this time, for the babies were 
 put to bed, and Lucina and Salome stayed at 
 home to study. 
 
 It was such a curious ballroom ; I wish you 
 could have seen it, Celia, lighted by flaring candles 
 set high up on the walls, the musicians all wrapped 
 in sarapes and playing with their hats on, and 
 half the men smoking, among the lookers-on 
 around the room. There were two sentinels, with 
 long shining rifles, stationed at each door, I m 
 sure I don t know why, unless they re always 
 expecting a revolution in this country, or unless 
 everybody is so wild to dance that they have to 
 keep unbidden guests away by force of arms. 
 
 Ah, yes, and there was one thing more, and 
 such a pretty thing, the " Cascarones." 
 
 These are eggshells filled with silver and gold 
 tinsel, and bits of colored paper, and the gen- 
 
2GO UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 tlemen break them over the ladies heads in the 
 dancing. It s a charming custom, and the bright, 
 shining particles look very picturesque glittering 
 on the dark hair, but it took me at least three 
 days to get out of my fuzzy locks the " cascaron " 
 Raimundo broke for me. 
 
 It was the thin closely written sheets 
 containing this description of St. John s 
 Day that Mary took from her portfolio this 
 warm July afternoon, and while Lucina 
 drowsed in the doorway over her English 
 lesson, and the flies danced tarantellas in 
 the still heat, she read it over, and adding 
 two or three postscripts in girlish fashion, 
 prepared it for the next day s stage. 
 
 It was true that nothing had happened 
 since they left the ranch, nothing, that is, 
 save the tides of thought and feeling that 
 had ebbed and flowed in the little pilgrim s 
 heart. 
 
 It was evident enough, as she stood by 
 the table, folding and sealing her letter, 
 that her inner life, at least, had been event 
 ful since she left her home nearly a year 
 ago, for she was decidedly thinner, her rosy 
 tints a trifle paler, and there was a serious, 
 thoughtful look in the deep blue eyes. 
 
 In these midsummer days she was torn 
 
MIDSUMMER DAYS 261 
 
 day and night by opposing feelings, for 
 Celia had written that her " Francis " was 
 trying to negotiate the sale of the mountain 
 ranch to an English syndicate. 
 
 And if he should, oh, if he should, Molliekin, 
 (wrote the Princess,) and if he should get the 
 price he s trying for, it would straighten every 
 thing out and leave mother comfortable. 
 
 It s almost too good to be hoped for, but if it 
 does happen, we 11 wire you the news, no matter 
 if they have to send a mounted messenger with 
 it all the way from Tontin, and then ! ! then, 
 you dear, patient, precious, hard-working darling, 
 you will pitch your clothes into your trunk, and 
 ride, RIDE, RIDE, for your life and Corona. 
 
 Mary had trembled to her finger-tips as 
 she read the excited note, and had felt as 
 if she were already on horseback, gallop 
 ing home, but in a moment had come the 
 thought of her children, for whom she 
 hoped so much. Must they be left to the 
 dull monotony of ignorant lives, with no 
 one to guide them up the steeps of know 
 ledge? . . . And yet, on the other hand, 
 there was aunt Ellen. If Celia married, 
 was not Mary s first and highest duty to 
 her second mother, " the angel of her infant 
 life"? . . . True, but there was Lucina, and 
 
262 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 and other friends in Sonora. How could 
 she leave them all ? . . . Could she not, 
 oh, there was the solution, could she not 
 come back again and persuade aunt Ellen to 
 come, too, for a while ? Now that she knew 
 the drawbacks of living down here, she could 
 bring enough from home to make even a 
 sick person comfortable, and the change, of 
 course, would do her worlds of good. Did n t 
 they always prescribe change of scene for 
 invalids ? 
 
 " Lucina," she cried, turning to the door 
 way, "if I should go away, how wouldst 
 thou like " - 
 
 " Meh-ree," interrupted Lucina, " I will 
 not have you keep saying 4 if I should go 
 away. I cannot bear it. If lightning is 
 going to strike me, I don t see the advantage 
 of being told of it beforehand. I m not 
 going to talk about it, I m not going to 
 think about it, and if you loved me a single 
 bit," pouting, "you d stop writing those 
 everlasting letters, and let me speak to you 
 once in a while." 
 
 " Dear, dear ! what a firebrand it is ! " 
 cried Mary, running to the door. " Come, 
 then, thou little spoiled one, what dost thou 
 say ? Shall we go to the vineyard ? " 
 
MIDSUMMER DAYS 263 
 
 Now the time, as the Scripture says, " was 
 the time of the first ripe grapes," and as 
 they were unusually luscious that season, the 
 favorite walk of the girls was in their direc 
 tion. 
 
 They sallied out now, hand in hand, talk 
 ing and laughing, for the sun of youth 
 shone too bright to be long clouded, and by 
 and by " they came unto the vineyard," and 
 by the payment of a medio (two cents and 
 a half) they were allowed to cut as many 
 grapes as they chose, and, having forgotten 
 their basket, they hung them on a stick and 
 carried the burden thus between them. 
 
 " We look just like the spies that Moses 
 sent into Canaan, coming back from the 
 brook Eshcol," laughed Mary. "There 
 was a picture of it I always used to like, in 
 our old Bible at home, and it says under 
 neath, 4 They cut down from thence a branch 
 with one cluster of grapes, and they bare it 
 between them upon a staff. " 
 
 " It must have been a very fertile coun 
 try," commented Lucina, " if those were 
 wild grapes. Let us pass my cousin s door, 
 as we go home, shall we ? and give the chil 
 dren some fruit, and then we can see if 
 Panchita will take us to the Fiesta to-night. 
 
264 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 You know you never have seen la gente 
 baja 1 dance, and I know you would enjoy 
 it, Mehree of my heart." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Garcia welcomed the idea 
 of going to the Fiesta, and in the summer 
 dusk they all set off together, Mary bare 
 headed and without a wrap, and Dona Pan- 
 chita with her reboso slightly loosened, as a 
 concession to the extreme heat. 
 
 It was a picturesque sight that met their 
 eyes as they turned into the open square 
 where the Fiesta was in progress. In the 
 centre stood a pavilion, its supports, trees 
 just brought from the woods with the bark 
 still on, and its roof, green boughs that 
 danced with the thrill of the dancing below. 
 All about the square, stalls, lighted by can 
 dles with their star-like points of flame, were 
 set for the sale of cakes and sweetmeats, and 
 to and fro among them moved a throng of 
 dark figures. 
 
 This being a case where to do as the 
 Romans do is the highest courtesy, the 
 Americanita seated herself on the ground 
 with her friends, and, eating peanuts and 
 cactus sweetmeats, watched with admiration 
 the dancers in the green pavilion. The music 
 
 1 The common people, or lower orders. 
 
MIDSUMMER DAYS 265 
 
 was decidedly inferior, merely what is called 
 a " rawhide band " in Arizona, but the 
 dancing was never excelled and rarely 
 equaled by the trained performers of any 
 European court. There was complete ab 
 sence of ceremony, " Willy had his Jane, 
 and Johnny had got his Joan," and all were 
 " tripping, tripping, tripping up and down," 
 with the beat of the music in their feet, and 
 the keen, savage joy of rhythmic motion in 
 their veins. 
 
 The men all wore the white cotton blouse 
 and trousers of the country, in every stage 
 of dirt, semi-dirt, and cleanliness ; all kept 
 their broad - brimmed straw hats on, and 
 most of them puffed cigarritos while dan 
 cing. 
 
 Their partners, whom they beckoned from 
 the crowd of women with bended finger, 
 exactly as one does in " Puss in the Corner," 
 were gowned as usual in long, trailing cali 
 coes, some of which were soiled and greasy, 
 just as they came from the kitchen. There 
 was only one maiden who had attempted 
 adornment, and she was arrayed in a yellow 
 muslin with streamers of green ribbon, and 
 wore a bunch of red paper roses in her dark 
 hair, but as she danced no better than the 
 
206 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 Cinderellas, she seemed to receive no more 
 attention than they. 
 
 Waltzes, polkas, quadrilles, and " danzas " 
 followed each other in rapid succession as 
 they watched, and in none of the dances re 
 quiring concerted action was a single direc 
 tion given, the performers swinging through 
 the various elaborate figures with perfect 
 grace and ease, and as serenely as the stars 
 move in their long-accustomed courses. 
 
 " It is perfectly marvelous," said Mary, 
 at the end of the evening, yawning a little 
 as they bade adieu to the Garcias and 
 turned toward their room, " it is perfectly 
 marvelous how thy people dance, Lncinn; 
 " it must be in the blood, like the sing 
 Dear me ! what is this ? " stumbling over an 
 obstruction at the threshold. 
 
 " This " proved to be the washerwoman, 
 seated sphinx-like and immovable on the 
 sidewalk, her bundle of clothes by her side, 
 apparently resolved to wait for their return 
 until morning, if necessary. 
 
 " Why, seiiora," cried Mary, recognizing 
 her, " did I hurt you ? Why in the world 
 did you not speak ? " 
 
 " I believed the ladies would see me, and 
 
MIDSUMMER DAYS 267 
 
 I did not desire to cry out rudely. Since 
 long ago, I have been here awaiting them." 
 
 " But it was absurd to stay all this time," 
 expostulated Mary. " Why did you not 
 call the landlady, or go away and come back 
 again to-morrow ? It is not worth while to 
 be so patient, senora, Good-night, then," 
 receiving the bundle, " Many thanks." 
 
 " Lucina," said the girl gravely, as she 
 turned the heavy key in the door and wedged 
 the long pole in place, " I was going to say, 
 querida mia, 1 that thy people excelled all 
 others in dancing, but I am not sure, on the 
 whole, that their chief accomplishment is 
 not sitting still and waiting." 
 
 1 My loved one. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 "ADIOS! IIASTA LA VISTA! 
 
 Mrfi v 
 
 A - dios, a - dios ! Quien sa - be si en la vi - 
 
 da, Yauun-ca mas a ver - te vol - ve - re? 
 
 IT was a September dawn, so early that 
 the great oblong of the open window hardly 
 yet glimmered out from the soft darkness, 
 but early as it was, a low, continuous mur 
 mur of prayer showed that Mary s land 
 lady, " Doiia Madrugadita," l as the neigh- 
 ors called her, was already kneeling at her 
 beads in the adjoining room. 
 
 Early as it was, too, the blue eyes of her 
 lodger were wide and wakeful, as they had 
 been through all the hours of the night ; for 
 the final decision had been made, this chap 
 ter of life was closed, and the hand of the 
 
 1 Madam Early riser 
 
ADIOS ! HASTA LA VISTA 269 
 
 Recording Angel was already lifted to turn 
 the page. 
 
 A month ago the wires had flashed the 
 news of the momentous sale of the ranch, 
 and aunt Ellen s message, " Come home, my 
 child, at once ! " and it spoke well for the 
 heroic blood of Mary s ancestors that she 
 had let four weeks pass by while she found 
 out the exact condition of things at Glen 
 Ellen, assured herself that Celia s impend 
 ing marriage rendered her presence there 
 absolutely necessary, and made such ar 
 rangements as were in her power for the 
 continuance of the school so loved, so worked 
 for, and so appreciated. 
 
 Mrs. Mason, who had been in New Eng 
 land for her boy s Commencement, and after 
 a round of family visits was safely at home 
 again, openly exulted in the girl s prospec 
 tive departure, and willingly agreed to find 
 in Tontin a teacher for the precious school, 
 since that was the absolute condition of 
 Mary s leaving. 
 
 " I will find somebody," she wrote, " buy 
 somebody, or make somebody, if necessary, 
 so long as I can set you on the way to your 
 home (which, it may be observed, a chick 
 like you should never have left), and get a 
 
270 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 peep at you en route. I don t expect to 
 secure an enchantress, whom the children 
 will call 4 Adored little mistress, 4 Rose of 
 Castile, and Beloved One, as I understand 
 they do you, you witch, but I know I can 
 get a trusty, sensible, well-educated woman, 
 with a heart for her work, and an eye to the 
 favorable business opening down there." 
 
 She had been as good as her word, and 
 Mrs. Johnson, a grave, sweet-faced young 
 widow, bringing sheaves of certificates and 
 recommendations in her hands, was already 
 established in temporary lodgings in Ceritas, 
 pending the arrival of the Vazquez family 
 next month. 
 
 Her only drawback seemed to be her com 
 paratively slight knowledge of Spanish, but 
 Mary reflected, as she reviewed the situation 
 for the last time this morning, that, perhaps, 
 this was not so much of a drawback after all, 
 now that the children were well advanced 
 in English, and that it might prove by and 
 by to be a virtue rather than a defect. 
 
 As the familiar objects in the room out 
 lined themselves in the growing light, she 
 rose softly on her elbow to see if Lucina 
 were awake. No, there she lay, breathing 
 softly, her lips slightly parted, her black 
 
ADIOS ! HASTA LA VISTA 271 
 
 lashes a crescent of shadow on her creamy 
 cheek, and her long braids sweeping the pil 
 low. One of the sharpest pangs of parting 
 had been providentially averted here, for if 
 Mary should not be able to return next 
 spring, as she now fondly hoped to do, Dona 
 Rosita had solemnly promised to send Lu- 
 cina on a long visit to Corona at that time, 
 or so soon as suitable escort could be found. 
 
 The promise had been as balm to the 
 girl s yearning heart, and since then she had 
 been quiet and helpful, now, as ever, the 
 most faithful of friends and best of assist 
 ants. 
 
 " Who would have thought," mused Mary, 
 as she looked around with a laugh and a sob 
 mounting together in her throat, " that this 
 den would ever have grown lovable to me, 
 that I should look with affection on these 
 smeared walls, these worm-eaten beams, and 
 this worn-out floor, and that I should posi 
 tively want to cry, when a whiff from 
 4 Araby the Blest came to my nose ? How 
 strangely, how strangely, we are made ! A 
 year ago, I was half breaking my heart be 
 cause I had to come here, and now the poor 
 heart is aching so that I can hardly bear it 
 because I must go to-day." 
 
272 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 The sun had fairly risen now, and its 
 golden beams shining through chink of door 
 and open window showed the traveler s small 
 trunk all corded for the journey, and her 
 guitar -case, portmanteau, and wraps lying 
 beside it. The humble lodging had never 
 boasted many adornments, but all had van 
 ished now, the wall-roll with its illuminated 
 texts having been presented to Lucina, as 
 well as Celia s painting of " Old Maids 
 Hall," whose lofty towers gave Mary a sharp 
 pang every time she saw them under the 
 altered condition of affairs. 
 
 Poor little Carmen Cavazos, whose suffer 
 ings under the approaching departure were 
 really painful to witness, had been some 
 what consoled by the gift of her beloved s 
 devotional books and her portfolio, while 
 Don Raimundo, dropping in one evening 
 with Mrs. Garcia, had, while that amiable 
 lady s back was turned, quietly pocketed 
 everything on the table. It was not alto 
 gether larceny, for he had given an inter 
 rogative glance at Mary as he did so, and she, 
 half touched, half laughing, had watched 
 him as he stowed away her quill pen, her 
 worn copy of Emerson s essays, and the red 
 Japanese silk scarf that had so long adorned 
 
ADIOS! HASTA LA VISTA 273 
 
 her hat. The exchange might have been 
 called a fair one, perhaps, with a consider 
 able balance on Mary s side, for the books 
 he had last lent her, "Don Quixote," Es- 
 pronceda s poems, and a volume of Fer- 
 nan Caballero s stories, were lying in her 
 trunk, with his full name, Raimundo Alta- 
 mirano e Ylarregui, and an inimitable flour 
 ish beneath, written in every one of them. 
 He had refused to take them back when 
 they were proffered, and setting her name 
 above his own, had said in his extravagantly 
 courteous way that they were far too costly 
 for his possession, now that she had used 
 them. 
 
 She was pondering all these things in her 
 heart, her hand shading her tired eyes from 
 the bright sun, when one of his shining 
 arrows suddenly aroused Lucina. 
 
 " A y ! " sighed the girl, stretching her 
 arms above her head, " what dreams I have 
 had and with what a heaviness I waken ! 
 It is the day, at last, is it not, Meh-ree dar 
 ling ? " the fond word in English now. 
 " Would that the dawn had been less 
 prompt to come ! And ah, there thou hast 
 another packet of letters under the door. 
 Do not rise, I will bring them to thee." 
 
274 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 In a moment she dropped the letters at 
 Mary s side, a half dozen of them, ad 
 dressed, some in round, childish hands, 
 some in scrawling, almost babyish letters, 
 some in spider-like chirography, and after 
 one of her impetuous, bear-like embraces 
 proceeded with her dressing, glancing ten 
 derly now and then, as she moved about the 
 room, at the expressive April face on the 
 white pillow. 
 
 The letters were a last tribute from some 
 of the disconsolate children, they had all 
 written her at least a dozen apiece since 
 they knew of her departure, and she had 
 found them from day to day under her 
 pillow, on her table, slipped under the door, 
 lying where they had been tossed through 
 the window, and even tucked into the pocket 
 of her school dress. So sweet they were, so 
 tender, so youthful in sentiment, and yet 
 couched always in the formal Spanish style 
 that seems to sit so heavily on childish 
 shoulders. 
 
 Her naughty boys, Lauro Martinez and 
 Pedro Rosales, had each written a pathetic, 
 ill -spelled note this morning, supplicating 
 that she would forgive the evil of their be 
 havior in the past ; Delfina Quiroga sent a 
 
ADIOS ! HASTA LA VISTA 275 
 
 tender letter beginning, " My much beloved 
 and appreciated Miss Mariquita ; " Pascual 
 Salazar wrote that in all the schools he had 
 ever attended he had never had " so amiable, 
 so wise, so sympathetic, nor so gracious a 
 teacher," and that she could " never, never 
 be forgotten ; " Teresa Caraveo sent an ab 
 solute wail of despair very much blotted, 
 protesting that the new lady could never 
 be one half so dear nor so lovely as her 
 " adored Miss Mary," and begging for a 
 letter from her that she might " treasure 
 it all her life," and lastly, here was another 
 letter certainly the twentieth from Car 
 men Cavazos. 
 
 Mary laughed over this, then choked, and 
 finally broke down altogether in Lucina s 
 encircling arms, sobbing that she should 
 never have the courage to leave Ceritas if 
 that child sent her another line. 
 
 It was written in scrawling, irregular 
 
 O O 
 
 characters, with a deplorable lack of capi 
 tals and a highly original system of punctu 
 ation, but it was touching enough to one 
 who knew the girl. 
 
 MY BELOVED PRECEPTRESS (it ran), 
 
 Since the hour when you gave me the sad 
 notice of your departure my heart is full of a 
 
276 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 just sentiment all that I see causes me sadness 
 I think only of the deplorable day you must 
 leave us and of how brief a time endured the 
 pleasure of your amiable company ; no consola 
 tion remains to me but tears though I do not 
 lose the precious hope of seeing you again as you 
 promised : God be thanked that I may have this 
 joy now that I have no longer the happiness of 
 learning sweet maxims from your appreciated 
 lips 
 
 adored Miss Mary do not forget us we shall 
 forever be sad in your absence I can never for 
 get you never never never my heart will always 
 mourn for my sweetest and dearest 
 
 Receive that heart full of sorrow and senti 
 ment 
 
 CARMEN CAVAZOS 
 
 Poor Mary, already worn out with the 
 sorrows of parting, was tucking these last 
 precious letters into her bag when Vicente 
 and Faustino, hand in hand, supporting 
 each other, came, solemn as mutes at a fu 
 neral, to call her to breakfast. Their de 
 meanor was so unlike anything the mercu 
 rial little fellows had ever displayed before 
 that it was absolutely startling, and Mary 
 was obliged to kneel on the threshold, and 
 hugging them both, cry, " Do, dear boys, try 
 
ADIOS ! HASTA LA VISTA 277 
 
 to cheer up a bit! You are breaking my 
 heart. You know I must go, but I will 
 come back, I will indeed." 
 
 " Luckless Mrs. Johnson," she thought, 
 as for the last time she hurried to the morn 
 ing meal ; " she 11 suffer next week, poor 
 woman, until the children recover a little 
 from this parting." 
 
 Breakfast dispatched, she bade adieu to 
 kind Mr. Garcia, to the servants, and to 
 as many of the children as could hastily 
 be collected, and then, closely shadowed by 
 Lucina and her brothers, and escorted by 
 Dona Panchita and the two older children, 
 she returned to her room to wait for the 
 stage. 
 
 " It is strange Raimundo has not been 
 here this morning," murmured Dona Pan 
 chita, pausing in the doorway as she looked 
 up and down the street. 
 
 " No," answered Mary from her perch 
 on the trunk where she sat surrounded by 
 children ; " you know he told us last night 
 that he does not believe in good-byes, and," 
 with a quiver in her voice, " I saw him at 
 my window afterwards. . . . Oh, is that the 
 stage so soon?" as a rattling and clattering 
 was heard on the stony street. 
 
278 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 It was indeed that vehicle of fate, and in 
 all its trips since the day it was built, it 
 could never have been received before with 
 such a concerted and unanimous wail of sor 
 row as burst on its approach from every 
 childish throat in the throng about the door. 
 The rough driver looked about him in amaze 
 ment as he tossed the shabby trunk into 
 place, and he climbed to his seat, his dark 
 features still fixed in a wondering stare. 
 
 " Good-by, dear Doiia Panchita," cried 
 Mary, falling on the breast of that weeping 
 matron. " You have been so good to me. 
 Good-by, my dearest, darling, dearest little 
 Lucina," emphasizing each word with tear 
 ful kisses, " we shall see each other soon, 
 you know ; good-by, my precious children 
 yes, Miss Mary will come back, she will 
 come back indeed. Carmencita mia, do not 
 cry so, sweet child ! . . . Yes, you may bring 
 the guitar, boys, and my bag," and she 
 stumbled up the steps of the stage and fell 
 into her seat half-blinded by tears. 
 
 The driver cracked his whip, the wheels 
 began to turn, when " Stop, stop ! " cried 
 all the children at once, and round the 
 corner, at full speed, came Pedro and Lauro, 
 the two naughty boys, bearing between them 
 
ADIOS ! HASTA LA VISTA 279 
 
 an immense wicker cage, a cardinal bird flut 
 tering behind its bars. 
 
 " It is for you," they cried ; " it is for 
 you to take to California, and do forgive us, 
 dear Mees Meh-ree ! " 
 
 "Forgive you!" cried the girl, now a 
 weeping Niobe indeed. " Why, you have 
 been as good as angels for weeks past. 
 Thank you a thousand times, dear boys. I 
 shall love the bird. Good-by, good-by." 
 
 The stage rolled away with its solitary 
 passenger, for the La Fleurs, who were also 
 going to Tontin, were not to be taken up 
 until the mill was reached, and Mary looked 
 back until the last minute to catch a parting 
 glimpse of Lucina, to wave her hand to the 
 washerwoman, to old Don Alberto, who was 
 taking his morning constitutional, to Mrs. 
 Johnson, who stood at her window, and to 
 the priest, who chatted on a corner with 
 Senor Cavazos. 
 
 " It is all over at last," she thought, as 
 they crossed the Alameda. " All the good 
 byes are said now," but as she leaned back 
 exhausted with emotion, there was a glint 
 of silver, a rattle of spurs and chains, a 
 clatter of rapid hoofs, and the Knight of 
 the Rueful Countenance reined in his horse 
 beside her. 
 
280 UNDER THE CACTUS FLAG 
 
 " Good-morning, Mariquita," he said, with 
 a sweep of the broad gray hat with its sil 
 ver tassels. " I am come to escort you as 
 far as Las Flores, with your permission." 
 
 Mary raised her small, tear-stained face 
 to the grave dark eyes looking down upon 
 her. " Thank you, Raimundo," she said, 
 with a little catch in her breath, " I shall 
 be very glad, I am so tired, and sad and 
 lonely." 
 
 " Poor little one, thou hast suffered much, 
 and there is a hard journey before thee," he 
 murmured with a compassionate glance. " I 
 am rejoiced that a suitable escort is pro 
 vided for thee from Tontin," he added, seem 
 ing not to notice that he had dropped the 
 formal "you" in these last phrases. " Now 
 do not try to talk ; repose thyself for a 
 little." 
 
 He only dropped an occasional word him 
 self, as Favorito cantered along by the rick 
 ety vehicle, for silence was always golden 
 with SeKor Don Raimundo Altamirano e 
 Ylarregui, but his very silence had some 
 thing soothing about it, thought Mary, and 
 an atmosphere of comfort and protection 
 seemed to radiate from his presence to-day 
 as she recognized with a quick heart-throb 
 
ADIOS ! HASTA LA VISTA 281 
 
 what the soft " thou " meant from the lips 
 of this knight of hers. 
 
 As they climbed the slope to the mill, 
 rustling through grasses and flowers waving 
 high above the wheels, Raimundo, with a 
 word of command to the driver, suddenly 
 reined in his horse. 
 
 " I must go, Mariquita," he said simply, 
 as he bent to the window. 
 
 " Good-by, then," faltered the girl, as she 
 shyly gave him her hand, the tears rushing 
 swift again into the blue eyes. 
 
 " Not good-by, Mariquita, that is not a 
 word I favor," he murmured, as he bent 
 over her fingers. " Hasta la vista, 1 let us 
 say ; that suits better with my mood and 
 with my purpose, sweetest friend of mine. 
 Hasta la vista, pues, hasta " Favorito gave 
 a sudden bound as the spurs touched his vel 
 vet flanks, the stage creaked on up the hill, 
 and Mary, leaning out into the sunshine, 
 watched the stately rider galloping back, 
 galloping back into his country as she rode 
 forward to her own. 
 
 1 Au revoir. 
 
ELECTROTYPEDAND PRINTED 
 BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND CO. 
 
 c press 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, MASS., U. S. A. 
 
M317166