THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
: 
 
 V 
 
EL ESTRANJERO 
 
In the canon s depths 
 
EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 (THE STRANGER) 
 A STORY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 
 
 BY 
 
 RUSSELL JUDSON WATERS 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 Lyric Echoes, Legend of Tauquito, Peter 
 
 Dunderhead Papers, A Man for Breakfast, A Pioneer 
 
 Woman, The Dude s Hunt 
 
 Illustrated by 
 WILL E. CHAPIN 
 
 RAND McNALLY & COMPANY 
 
 CHICAGO 1910 NEW YORK 
 
Copyright, 1910, bu 
 Rand, McNally & Company 
 
 &anb*jflcj%all| 
 
 Chicago 
 
1A/33/ 
 
 TO THE 
 
 EARLY PIONEERS 
 
 Whose energy, thrift, perseverance, and belief in 
 its glorious future made possible the wonderful 
 development of this fair land of 
 
 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Prologue ... 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. EL ESTRANJERO . 
 
 II. THE RESCUE . . . 
 
 III. ON THE TRAIL 
 
 IV. A BETROTHAL 
 
 V. AFTER MANY YEARS 
 
 VI. THE SENORITA . . 
 
 VII. HOME AGAIN . 
 
 VIII. THE WARNING 
 
 IX. THE RODEO . . 
 
 X. THE RAID . . . . 
 
 XI. PHILIP . . . . 
 
 XII. A WOODLAND DRAMA . 
 
 XIII. A NARROW ESCAPE 
 
 XIV. IN TOUCH WITH THE ENEMY 
 XV. THE CAPTIVE . 
 
 XVI. FRANCESCA S SECRET . 
 
 XVII. THE COUNCIL 
 
 XVIII. WOODLAND ADVENTURES 
 
 XIX. THE FIGHT AT CRAFTON 
 
 XX. A TALE OF THE FRONTIER . 
 
 XXI. A DESERT TRAGEDY 
 
 XXII. IN THE PASS . 
 
 XXIII. THE PURSUIT . . 
 
 XXIV. NAWONA 
 XXV. THE RUNAWAY 
 
 XXVI. THE RETURN JOURNEY 
 
 XXVII. BLACKBERRYING . 
 
 PAGE 
 5 
 
 7 
 10 
 
 i5 
 
 22 
 26 
 32 
 
 37 
 43 
 48 
 56 
 63 
 67 
 
 73 
 
 78 
 . 84 
 
 90 
 
 . 98 
 . 101 
 , 106 
 , 109 
 . 116 
 
 . 122 
 . 126 
 
 131 
 , 136 
 
 . 144 
 . 148 
 
 M314155 
 
CONTENTS Continued 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXVIII. CAMPING 155 
 
 XXIX. AT SPRING ROCK 161 
 
 XXX. CONFIDENCES . . . . 167 
 
 XXXI. A LESSON IN LOVE . . . .172 
 
 XXXII. BY THE EVENING FIRE. . ... 178 
 
 . XXXIII. THE LEGEND OF THE ARROWHEAD . 192 
 
 XXXIV. AN UNDERSTANDING . . . 202 
 
 XXXV. THE LAST NIGHT IN CAMP . . . 210 
 
 XXXVI. IN THE VALLEY ... .220 
 
 XXXVII. PHILOSOPHY BY THE WAY . . 228 
 
 XXXVIII. NAWONA AND FRANCESCA . . . 239 
 
 XXXIX. THE LOCKET ... .247 
 
 XL. BOOTS AND SADDLES .... 257 
 
 XLI. A PSYCHIC PHENOMENON . . . 262 
 
 XLII. A LETTER . .. ... . .265 
 
 XLIII. THE REVELATION . . . - 270 
 
 XLIV. A PUEBLO WEDDING . . . .286 
 
 L Envoi . . . 294 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 The scenes portrayed and the actions reflected in the 
 following pages are in most instances true to the life 
 of early days, representing, as they do, many of the 
 historical events which transpired in one of the most 
 picturesque of the western settlements. This pueblo 
 was situated at the foot of the San Bernardino Range 
 of mountains in Imperial county, an empire in itself, 
 one of the proudest counties in the Golden State. 
 
 While the sons and daughters of this great com 
 monwealth were then deeply enamored with and proud 
 of their beautiful land, they never in their wildest 
 flights of imagination pictured the great advancement 
 and growth since made in the southern part of this 
 giant state. 
 
 From a few modest, vine-covered cottages and sun- 
 dried adobes of the early sixties, widely scattered over 
 the plains from the mountains to the ocean, at inter 
 vals so great that it might well bear the appellation 
 of "the settlement of magnificent distances/ the sec 
 tion, formerly known as the "cow counties" of Cali 
 fornia, has grown in population, wealth and impor 
 tance, until it now maintains a position equal, if not 
 superior, to any part of the state. 
 
 This may be said of nearly all of the country lying 
 south of the Tehachipi. From mountains to ocean the 
 growth and improvement has been phenomenal. All 
 that could be desired and more than could have been 
 
 [5] 
 
6 PROLOGUE 
 
 expected in a country known as semiarid much of 
 it down on the maps of our country as desert land 
 has been accomplished. 
 
 To the student and lover of nature, and to those of 
 a romantic turn of mind, the earlier history of Cali 
 fornia appeals with overwhelming force, and dwarfs 
 into insignificance any material improvement. 
 
 To those living in the valley, in sight of the moun 
 tains, with their ever-varying scenery of light and 
 shade, forest and vale, sunshine and shadow, and their 
 myriad attractions, there is an endless charm which 
 is irresistible. 
 
Stampede through camp 
 
EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 (THE STRANGER) 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "Brown night retires, young day pours in apace, 
 
 And opens all the lawny prospect wide, 
 The dripping rock, the mountain s misty top, 
 
 Swell on the sight and brighten with the dawn." 
 
 The pueblo of Elevado was a pastoral com 
 munity with houses built of battened rough pine 
 boards brought from the sawmill on the mountain, 
 instead of the sun-dried adobe brick used by the valley 
 dwellers. 
 
 One of these houses standing near the center of 
 the pueblo was more pretentious than the rest. It 
 was, like the others, one story in height, but its shake 
 roof was laid shingle-wise, and its many rooms were *- 
 arranged around three sides of a square, the pillars*^ 
 of its wide verandas covered with climbing roses and 
 honeysuckle and shaded with willow. Pepper, palm, 
 and banana trees flourished in the patio, and roses ^ 
 ran riot everywhere, while its ranks of orange trees ^ z " 
 stretched downward toward the valley, in beautiful 
 
 
 regularity of shape and outline. 
 
 
 
 There was an air pi 
 
8 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 of homely comfort and thrift about this place which 
 indicated that the owner was a person of consequence 
 in the community. 
 
 Upon a beautiful morning a man, coming from the 
 direction of the mountains, and apparently in des 
 perate straits, was making his way through the 
 valley toward the settlement. He was hatless, coatless, 
 and shoeless, and his appearance indicated that he 
 had been engaged in a fierce hand to hand encounter. 
 Ragged, unkempt and dirty, he looked as though 
 weeks or months might have passed since he had 
 known comfort or shelter. His eyes were wide and 
 unseeing like those of a somnambulist, and he groped 
 with his hands as he staggered along, turning occa 
 sionally and attempting feebly to run back, then again 
 setting his face toward the pueblo and tottering 
 forward. 
 
 His every movement showed physical weakness 
 and mental confusion, and yet there seemed to be a 
 purpose holding him that impelled him onward. 
 Struggling, falling, and rising many times, until it 
 seemed that he must surrender and lie down to die, 
 he at length fell and lay so still that the ever watch 
 ful buzzards, circling nearer and nearer, came so 
 -close to him that the wing of the most venturesome 
 brushed his cheek. Involuntarily his hand was raised 
 to protect his face, and falling back, splashed in a little 
 runlet. 
 
 The touch of the water revived him and like a 
 wounded snake he dragged himself half a length, 
 
EL ESTBANJEKO 
 
 dropped his head to the cool surface of the stream, 
 and drank long and deeply. 
 
 Apparently refreshed, he laved his swollen feet in 
 the water, dashed it over his head, face, and arms, 
 and after sitting for a few minutes with every muscle 
 relaxed as if in an agony of weariness, he painfully 
 got on his feet and again set out toward the pueblo, 
 now but a few furlongs distant. 
 
 A bunch of broncos grazing near by, raised their 
 heads and with a snort galloped away as he rose to 
 his feet all except one, a half-broken creature, staked 
 with a long rope at which it pulled furiously. 
 
 In the same groping manner, as though he were 
 blind, the wayfarer started forward; but he tripped 
 over the stake rope, entangling himself as he fell. 
 The terrified bronco at last succeeded in pulling the 
 stake from the ground, and as the man had, in his 
 efforts to free himself, wound the rope about his 
 body, the stake caught firmly in some of his tattered 
 
 clothing, and thus through the grass and dust, half- 
 dead and wholly unconscious, he was dragged toward 
 the house built around three sides of a square in the 
 Pueblo or Elevado. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 
 
 THE RESCUE 
 
 On the wide western veranda of the Holcomb 
 ranch house a boy and girl were swinging in a ham 
 mock, their feet outstretched so that they struck 
 against the veranda railing with every forward 
 swing, giving the impetus for the delightful motion. 
 The girl might have been eleven or twelve, and the 
 boy was about the same age. She was fair-haired 
 and blue-eyed, with the ungainly length of arm and 
 leg characteristic of that period of childhood, but 
 \ giving promise of future bloom and beauty. The 
 x boy was dark-haired and brown-eyed, but his natu- 
 I rally dark complexion was yet fairer than that of 
 4- his cousin, who was freckled by the wind and sun, 
 while the absence of tan on his own skin showed him 
 * x new to the ardor of the California climate. 
 
 In the patio an Indian lad, dressed in faded blue f 
 | overalls and red cotton shirt, was squatting upon his 
 bare brown heels, plaiting a horsehair riata, while 
 his mother, the stolid-faced Francesca, was busied 
 
 ;f\ about a fire, over which hung a kettle of boiling 
 j]\ water suspended from a pole resting in the crotches 
 jjf of two strong oak branches set in the ground. The 
 corn husks upon a low bench indicated that she had 
 finished the making of the tamales, the last of which . 
 she now dropped into the kettle, and stood with arms | 
 
 
 
 
 
THE RESCUE 
 
 11 
 
 akimbo, watching a distant cloud of dust that might 
 indicate an approaching horseman. 
 
 "Alice," the boy was saying, "Auntie said last night 
 that there ain t no school at all here that s fit for a 
 big girl like you. Gimini ! Alice, I wished I lived here 
 all the time, cause if there ain t no school fit to go 
 to I d stay at home, and me and Juan would fish all 
 day, an hunt and have lots of fun, wouldn t we, 
 Juan?" The Indian lad looked up with an assenting 
 nod and a grin that showed his white teeth. 
 
 "And, Alice," the boy went on, "Auntie said that 
 when Papa goes back she s goin to send you with 
 us to go to school till you re all growed up, now what 
 do you think of that?" 
 
 Alice s blue eyes widened as she stared at the 
 speaker. "Phil," she said, "I think you are one great 
 big story teller." 
 
 "No, honest, Alice, cross my heart," said the child, 
 suiting the action to the word, and thus giving the 
 inviolable sign of childhood that he told the truth. 
 "Cross my heart," he said again, "Auntie did say it." 
 -.^ "I won t go," Alice said, setting her red 
 together firmly. "I won t go back East where 
 ain t no Juan and Francesca and no Daddy to 
 me ride my pony after the cattle. I m going to 
 here and be a cow-puncher-girl when I grow up. 
 hate school and I ll run away if Uncle takes me back 
 East. What s that, Francesca," she cried, jumping 
 from the hammock so suddenly that she turned it 
 wrong side out and Phil tumbled to the floor. 
 
12 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 "That" was a galloping horse dragging a rope, at 
 the end of which was a ragged and tattered bundle. 
 
 "Daddy! Daddy," she cried, "Daddy!" 
 
 A tall, bearded man with his sleeves rolled above 
 his elbows appeared in the doorway. One glance and 
 he was down the steps, jerking a riata from a nail and 
 coiling it as he ran. 
 
 "Juan," he cried, "head him!" 
 
 The lithe Indian lad sprang forward waving his 
 arms, the horse swerved, and in an instant the lariat 
 fell about his neck, was snubbed neatly around the 
 post of the veranda by the man, and the animal stood 
 trembling and snorting, the bundle but a few feet 
 distant from his plunging hoofs. 
 
 A stroke of a knife severed the stake rope, and 
 Francesca and Juan, aided by Holcomb, laid the poor 
 broken form upon the floor of the veranda. 
 
 "Where s your father, Phil?" Holcomb asked the 
 boy. 
 
 "He s out in the orchard with Auntie, I ll get him," 
 and the child raced away calling for his father at the 
 top of his voice. 
 
 In a few minutes Mrs. Holcomb and her brother 
 appeared, running, for the boy had told them that a 
 man was dead on the veranda. 
 
 Phil s father was a physician, taking a vacation rest 
 with his boy in his sister s California home. 
 
 Francesca was upon her knees by the side of the 
 . prostrate stranger, dashing water into his face, Hol 
 comb was charing his wrists, and Alice was standing 
 
THE RESCUE 
 
 13 
 
 white-faced and wide-eyed gazing down upon him. 
 
 "Send the children away," was Dr. Adams quick 
 command, "and you, Marian," to his sister, "get my 
 case from my bedroom." 
 
 With skillful hands he cut away the clothing from 
 the bruised body and, to the horrified eyes of the little 
 group, it was seen that they were black with the clotted 
 blood of old wounds. The bruises from the provi 
 dential accident that had thrown the stranger at their 
 feet, were not serious in their nature, but the long 
 festering cuts upon his back and shoulders, the marks 
 of a bullet that had grazed the scalp, the rudely ban 
 daged bullet wound in the fleshy part of the upper 
 arm, all told a story of a fierce encounter. 
 
 "Indians," said Holcomb, as he stood looking down 
 upon the unconscious stranger, who had been laid 
 upon a. bed in one of the rooms opening off the patio. 
 "Looks like the work of paches, and may have hap 
 pened a hundred miles away or twenty miles, most 
 likely a hundred. How in thunder he got himself at 
 the end of Pete s stake rope is what bothers me. If 
 I did not know that Pete was staked less than half a 
 mile from home, I d say the Indians finished their 
 job by tying him to the end of the rope, They ve 
 done such tricks. The thing to do now is to find out 
 how he came by those wounds. Francesca," turning 
 I to the Indian woman, "you stay here with what shall ^^ 
 fe^we call him?" 
 
 11 Estranjero," muttered the woman. 
 Veil, you stay with Sefior El Estranjero 
 
 1 
 
14 EL ESTBANJEKO 
 
 and day. Don t say a word to anybody about him, 
 or how he came here. Do what the doctor tells you 
 and, above all, listen and remember every word he 
 says, if ever he gets so he can say anything. 
 
 "Marian," he said to his wife, "keep this matter 
 quiet. There s no use raising a hue and cry need 
 lessly. If there are Indians about, a still hunt will be 
 sure to locate them and we will stand a better chance 
 of finding the devils and punishing them than we 
 would to raise a general alarm. 
 
 "I ll take Marco and Manuel and Juan, and if we 
 find anything it will be time enough to raise a rum 
 pus. There is no use in needlessly scaring the women 
 and children with a false Indian alarm. 
 
 "Go call Marco and Manuel," he continued, turn 
 ing to Juan, "and be back here in an hour. Tell them 
 nothing but that I wish them to come with their guns 
 and canteens and jerky enough for two weeks for 
 the four of us." 
 
 He cautioned the children to absolute secrecy about 
 the affair, and in an hour s time Holcomb was ready 
 to set forth. He gave instructions to his ranch fore 
 man and his herders to keep a wide and constant 
 ^lookout for danger while he was absent, but pledged 
 fthem to silence and caution with regard to the object 
 of that vigilance. 
 
 ,~ 
 
" The scouts followed this devious trail." Page 16 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 ON THE TRAIL 
 
 This haste in setting forth was necessary if the 
 scouts would follow the backward path of the mys 
 terious stranger before the action of the elements had 
 obliterated all the signs that constitute what is known 
 in woodcraft as a "trail." 
 
 To those who are unfamiliar with the methods of 
 following a trail, learned from the Indians and adopted 
 by the pioneers, it is as mysterious as the propul 
 sion of birds by their wings, or the source of the 
 power in electricity. The whole science of wood 
 craft is founded upon observation and long experience 
 in the wilderness. Every sign, however insignificant, 
 is carefuly noted and the reason for its existence 
 ^ascertained. A footprint, or the least disturbance of 
 -Jjthe soil are taken as certain evidence that some- 
 : thing has passed that way. A bent or broken twig, 
 a torn leaf from bush or tree, a hair from an animal, 
 | a thread from a piece of cloth, and a thousand things 
 | too trivial to mention are signs of the trail that read 
 like an open book. 
 
 The Indian, or experienced woodsman, follows a 
 trail almost unconsciously, and observes the signs as 
 we of the city would notice passing objects on 
 street, and if they have some purpose in view such 
 as the hunting of game, the discovery of the presence 
 
16 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 of an enemy, or of the whereabouts of a lost friend 
 these signs are always keenly noted. 
 
 Holcomb was one of the cleverest of these woods 
 men, whose craft as hunters of both men and beasts 
 seems almost preternatural. The Indians he had 
 chosen to accompany him were masters of the art of 
 trailing; for with all the white man s superior intelli 
 gence, the instinct of those creatures, both human and 
 brute, to whom the wilderness is a natural home, out 
 strips him in cunning. Even young Juan could track 
 a horse through a desert by signs that would escape 
 the keenest white man, and Holcomb often said that 
 | both Marco and Manuel could "smell" a hostile many 
 miles away. 
 
 For many leagues the zig-zag course of the poor 
 wanderer was plainly marked. It was evident that 
 he had come from the northwest, crossing El Cajon 
 Pass, and recrossing it many times, traveling at times 
 in complete circles, as bewildered persons in mountains 
 and deserts often do. 
 
 The scouts followed this devious trail far across 
 the mountains parallel to the beautiful San Gabriel 
 I Range on the desert-side, toward the point where 
 Little Rock Creek is lost in the sand. 
 
 It was near Mount San Antonio that they came 
 upon a spot by the side of a little stream where they 
 found the shreds of a coat heavy with clotted blood. 
 Here the brush was trampled, broken, and even torn 
 up by the roots, and the footprints of a man and that 
 of a beast were visible in the soft earth, while the 
 
The trail was followed to the edge of the desert where it was lost in 
 sand." Page 17 
 
ON THE TRAIL 
 
 17 
 
 rocks showed the dark stains of blood drops. Follow 
 ing this blood trail into the brush, the Indians found 
 the carcass of a dead mountain lion, with the blade 
 of a hunter s knife broken at the hilt within the 
 skeleton. 
 
 This accounted for the long scratches on the back 
 and shoulders of the stranger, but how he came by his 
 other wounds was still as mysterious as ever. The lion 
 of California will not attack man except on the strong 
 est provocation ; and, as the dead animal was a lioness, 
 it was evident that the wayfarer must have come 
 unexpectedly upon her and her cubs, and that his suc 
 cessful battle for life must have been terrific. 
 
 Without further discoveries, the trail was followed 
 across the Antelope Valley to the edge of the desert 
 where it was lost in the sand. No evidence of maraud 
 ing savages was found anywhere, and Holcomb 
 felt a great relief when, from the heights above 
 Elevado, he again saw the settlement through the 
 golden haze of the setting sun, and the blue smoke 
 curling from his own chimney. 
 
 Never had his home seemed so beautiful to Will 
 iam Holcomb as it did that night, when, foot-sore and 
 weary, he lounged on the steps of the veranda smok 
 ing his pipe, his arm about the waist of his wife, and 
 Philip and Alice nestling at his feet drinking in the 
 story of his trip. Above him the stars seemed to 
 swing from the sky, pulsing with light. The moon 
 bathed the valley in silver glory, making the little 
 
 : . . 
 
18 
 
 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 river look like a bright ribbon tying the mountains to 
 the distant ocean. 
 
 The sombre heights stood out boldly against the 
 moonlit sky, and a restless mocking bird trilled in the 
 climbing rosebush in the patio. Whoever has heard 
 the California mocking bird at nighttime singing his 
 song full-throated, liquid and lovely, a riot of esctatic 
 melody, has heard him at his best, and then, if the moon 
 shone, and love and peace spread wide their brooding 
 wings, the listener, as did Merlin of old, built airy 
 palaces and cities from the unsubstantial fabric of a 
 dream. 
 
 The children were full of eager questions and 
 Dr. Adams was silent and thoughtful, as the narrative 
 proceeded. 
 
 Within the house there was but a single light, a 
 candle shaded so that its rays might not disturb the 
 sick man who lay upon the bed between the open door 
 and window. The fragrant breeze from the patio, the 
 trill of the mocking bird, the low voices of the speak 
 ers outside, all sights and sounds were alike to him 
 as he tossed in the delirium of fever. 
 
 By his side sat old Francesca, stolid and emotion 
 less, swaying a palm-leaf fan. Day after day and 
 . night after night she had tended El Estranjero, seem 
 ing to divine his every want, to do always the right 
 thing, to soothe him in his wildest delirium. To 
 night he rolled his head from side to side muttering 
 and moaning. The old woman softly laid a wet cloth 
 across his forehead, and soon the muttering ceased 
 
ON THE TRAIL 
 
 19 
 
 and the patient dropped into a deep sleep. The palm- 
 leaf fan swayed back and forth, back and forth, the 
 eyes of the old woman in eager scrutiny upon the 
 sleeper s face. 
 
 Sitting thus she listened to the song of the mocking 
 bird, but soon her face and figure became rigid. 
 For many minutes she sat, stiff and staring, 
 then a great trembling seized upon her, and crouching 
 upon the floor at the foot of the bed, she sent out a 
 wild and piercing "Ah he! Ah he! Ah he!" the 
 wail of the Indian in great sorrow. 
 
 The group upon the porch heard it. 
 
 "Can he be dead?" Holcomb cried. 
 
 "Impossible," said the doctor, "he has been improv 
 ing slowing for days and was doing well when I left 
 him but a short time ago." 
 
 Still the wail of the woman pierced the night, and 
 the group on the porch rushed into the sick room. 
 
 The patient, who was sitting up in bed staring 
 about him, dropped back on his pillow as they entered. 
 His gaze was conscious, for the first time in the fort 
 night since he had been sheltered by that friendly roof. 
 
 "What is it?" he whispered feebly as the doctor 
 bent over him. 
 
 "Ah he! Ah he!" crooned the Indian woman. 
 
 Holcomb grasped her by the shoulders, shaking her 
 as one shakes a sleeper. 
 
 "Francesca, Francesca," he cried, "tell me what s the 
 matter ! Stop it, stop it, I tell you !" 
 
 "The children, the children," wailed the woman, 
 
20 
 
 EL ESTBANJEBO 
 
 "Oh, mother of God, Sefior, the poor little children!" 
 
 "The children are there," said Holcomb, pointing 
 to the door where Alice and Philip were staring in 
 wonder at this strange scene. 
 
 "Non, Non," cried the Indian, "the children with 
 the wagons." 
 
 "Get up, Francesca/ commanded her master. She 
 arose and stood quietly before him, the tears streak 
 ing her dark face. "You are hysterical and worn out 
 from watching, you must go now and send Manuel s 
 wife. She will take care of the sick one." 
 
 At these words Francesca suddenly resumed her 
 usual stolidity. "I alone know the wants of Sefior El 
 Estranjero," she said sullenly. "Vera is a young 
 fool, she would give him the drink when the Sefior 
 doctor has desired the powder for him, and she would 
 sleep when she should watch." 
 
 The doctor now turned and placed his fingers upon 
 the wrist of the old woman. 
 
 "Pulse as steady as a clock, no hysteria here. 
 What was the matter, Francesca?" 
 
 The old woman picked up the fan and began swaying 
 it slowly back and forth but made no reply, and to 
 all their questions presented such an imperturbable 
 front that they finally desisted. 
 
 El Estranjero watched what was taking place as 
 though it was part of the dream which had seemed so 
 long to hold him. 
 
 Finally as the doctor bent over him to adjust his 
 pillow, he said, "Where am I, who are they, how 
 did I get here?" 
 
ON THE TEAIL 21 
 
 "You have been ill," the doctor replied, "and you 
 are among friends, so do not talk now. Here, drink 
 this," and he held a glass to his lips. "In the morn 
 ing we will have some explanations." 
 
 When the morning came, however, El Estranjero 
 was again delirious, and for days remained uncon 
 scious. Then he became rational for a few minutes 
 at a time. Finally the rational periods became longer, 
 and in a little more than a week he slept quietly for 
 hours at a time with no trace of delirium. At last 
 the fever disappeared completely, and, weak and spent, 
 but conscious, El Estranjero looked out again upon 
 life. But some subtle thread of his mind seemed 
 ravelled and broken beyond repair. His own name 
 and names of persons and memories of places he had 
 known seemed entirely obliterated, and all the events 
 of his past life were as much a sealed book to him 
 as they were to the people who had given him shelter. 
 
 He could reason perfectly from cause to effect, could 
 read and write, but he was as though he had been 
 born into the world with these accomplishments. Sin 
 gularly enough, he could compute mathematically, 
 could remember the multiplication table, and could 
 work out intricate geometrical problems. To Dr. 
 Adams his case was one of the utmost interest, and 
 Holcomb caused inquiry to be made in Los Angeles, 
 Santa Barbara, and even in San Francisco, to try to 
 discover his identity, but all in vain. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A BETROTHAL 
 
 As the patient s strength grew, the doctor hoped 
 his memory would strengthen, but his hope was vain. 
 Certain mechanical actions, such as swimming, the 
 loading and firing of a gun, harnessing and driving 
 horses, he performed with great skill, but even his own 
 name must, it seemed, remain forever unknown to him . 
 In health El Estranjero was a handsome man, evidently 
 two or three years under thirty, with curling brown 
 hair and gray eyes. His features were finely formed, 
 his mouth full and sensitive, and all his manners and 
 language those of a man accustomed to cultivated sur 
 roundings. 
 
 To Alice and Philip the weeks of -his convalescence 
 were full of interest. They never tired of telling him 
 the story of how black Pete had dragged him across 
 the meadow, of the many times they had crouched by 
 his bedside listening to his ravings, and how nothing 
 coherent or sensible was ever made from anything 
 he had said in those days of delirium. 
 
 The old Indian woman, Francesca, exhibited a pecu 
 liar affection for El Estranjero. It was she who had 
 brought him from the jaws of death, she would say, 
 and it was she who had seen his soul as he lay in 
 delirium. Sometimes as she would speak of him she 
 crouched upon the ground, as she had done the night 
 
 [22] 
 
"The hills were still green." Page 2, 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 
 A BETROTHAL 
 
 As the patient s strength grew, the doctor hoped 
 his memory would strengthen, but his hope was vain. 
 Certain mechanical actions, such as swimming, the 
 loading and firing of a gun, harnessing and driving 
 horses, he performed with great skill, but even his own 
 name must, it seemed, remain forever unknown to him . 
 In health El Estranjero was a handsome man, evidently 
 two or three years under thirty, with curling brown 
 hair and gray eyes. His features were finely formed, 
 his mouth full and sensitive, and all his manners and 
 language those of a man accustomed to cultivated sur 
 roundings. 
 
 To Alice and Philip the weeks of .his convalescence 
 were full of interest. They never tired of telling him 
 the story of how black Pete had dragged him; across 
 the meadow, of the many times they had crouched by 
 his bedside listening to his ravings, and how nothing 
 coherent or sensible was ever made from anything 
 he had said in those days of delirium. 
 
 The old Indian woman, Francesca, exhibited a pecu 
 liar affection for El Estranjero. It was she who had 
 brought him from the jaws of death, she would say, 
 and it was she who had seen his soul as he lay in 
 delirium. Sometimes as she would speak of him she 
 crouched upon the ground, as she had done the night 
 
 [22] 
 
The hills were still green." Page 23 
 
A BETEOTHAL 
 
 23 
 
 he first regained consciousness, clasp her knees, and 
 rock to and fro softly moaning, but not a word would 
 she utter concerning her strange conduct. To Juan 
 alone, she seemed to have confided her trouble, and 
 only Juan had power to soothe and silence her when 
 these moods seized her. 
 
 The California winter, that most delightful season 
 of the most delightful country on the face of the 
 earth, was nearing its close. The hills were still 
 green and the poppies were bursting into flame in the 
 valleys, before El Estranjero had wholly recovered and 
 again took his place in the Holcomb household, 
 sharing in the labor of field and orchard. The time 
 allotted by Dr. Adams for his vacation had been long 
 overstayed, and he now decided to return. 
 
 Mrs. Holcomb said nothing to Alice concerning the 
 plan of sending her East with her uncle, until a few 
 days before his intended departure. 
 
 "Mother," stormed the child, "I don t want to go, 
 I don t, I don t." 
 
 "But, Alice," the mother expostulated, "I can not 
 have you grow up in ignorance. You will soon be a 
 young lady, and you will blame yourself, but you 
 would blame me most, if I allowed it." 
 
 "Daddy," cried the little girl, "I want to stay with 
 you and ride my pony after the cattle. How many 
 times you have told me I was a good fellow. " 
 
 The rancher looked pleadingly at his wife, but she 
 set her lips and shook her head. His face hardened 
 toward the little girl. He knew his wife was rieht 
 
 
24 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 and that the child would be grateful later for what 
 seemed a great cruelty now. 
 
 Alice saw there was no appeal from their decision, 
 and, wildly weeping, she rushed from the house and 
 away into the orchard, where she threw herself face 
 downward on the ground under an orange tree to 
 sob out her misery. 
 
 It was here that El Estranjero found her, and taking 
 her in his arms, began to soothe and caress her. 
 
 Finally her tears ceased to flow. She wound her 
 arms about his neck. 
 
 "I love you, Estranjero," she cried. "I love you 
 next to Daddy better than anybody in the world. Stay 
 here till I come back, and take care of black Pete and 
 my pony, and I ll study hard and write you a letter 
 every week. Say, El Estranjero, when I grow up 
 I ve got to marry everybody does and I m going to 
 marry you. I can t marry Daddy, for he s married 
 already, so I m going to marry you. You ll wait till 
 I m grown up, won t you?" 
 
 "All right, little Alice," laughed Estranjero, "I ll 
 wait, and I guess we might as well have an engage 
 ment ring." He pulled a horse-hair ring from his 
 pocket. "See here, Alice, I made this from the hair 
 of your pony s mane. I meant to give it to you any 
 way, so we ll make it an engagement ring." 
 
 "Well, you put it on," cried the little girl, "and now 
 you must put your arm around me and press me to 
 your breast and say, Darling, I will be true to my 
 promise forevermore. That s the way the man did 
 
A BETROTHAL 25 
 
 in the book Daddy read to mother one day when I 
 was swinging in the hammock on the porch." 
 
 El Estranjero bent his laughing face to that of 
 the little girl, drew her to his breast, and repeated the 
 words she had dictated. Next day Alice Holcomb 
 started for the East to "go to school till she was 
 a grown lady." Years of study, travel in Europe, 
 admiration by many a handsome swain were before 
 her, and Senor El Estranjero soon forgot the scene 
 in the orchard; but in a little orangewood box among 
 her treasures, Alice Holcomb cherished a horsehair 
 ring, and when she looked at it, as she sometimes did, 
 she saw a house built around three sides of a square, 
 set in a paradise of greenery, and an orange tree 
 bending low over a barefoot, tear-stained little girl 
 who lifted her lips to meet the laughing kiss of a man 
 whose gray eyes and curling brown hair were touched 
 with the light of deathless romance. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 AFTER MANY YEARS 
 
 Twelve years have passed since Alice Holcomb bade 
 good-bye to her California home. Her parents had 
 planned that the girl should return each alternate sum 
 mer, but in the spring of the second year her mother 
 died, and her father thought it best his child should 
 remain among her eastern kindred. Every year he 
 made a pilgrimage of a few weeks to visit his daugh 
 ter in the old Massachusetts home where he courted 
 and married his wife. At first her pleadings to return 
 with him were most piteous, but with the fickleness 
 of children she soon became attached to her new 
 friends, and even after her school days were over, 
 prolonged her absence, and now, after three years 
 in Europe, she was to come back to the house where 
 she was born. 
 
 In those years the pueblo of Elevado had grown in 
 size and importance. The houses had increased in 
 number, and the green of the orange groves was 
 stretching down into the valley and threatening to 
 obliterate the cattle ranges. Irrigation ditches were 
 beginning to scar the surface of the plain, and the 
 premonition of that progress which afterward con 
 verted this region into the fairest orchard land on the 
 
 earth was already felt. 
 ~ 
 
 
AFTER MANY YEARS 
 
 27 
 
 The wooden house built round three sides of a 
 square was a little more weather-beaten where its 
 boards peeped through the embowering greenery, but 
 was otherwise unchanged. Juan still braided his 
 horsehair riatas, squatting against the shady side of 
 the patio. Francesca still made her inimitable tamales. 
 The master, too, was little changed. His hair was 
 grizzled and his face saddened, but the vigor of his 
 sturdy manhood was unabated. 
 
 It was Senor Estranjero that had changed the most. 
 His figure had filled and straightened, his eyes had 
 grown bright and his step elastic; but no recollection 
 of his past life ever came back to him. Memory and 
 regret are the sculptors that chisel lines upon cheek 
 and brow and sprinkle the hair with gray. With 
 memories dating only from his recovery from his 
 wounds, Estranjero was like a man born full-grown 
 into the world. With no brooding thoughts to haunt 
 him, and with no regrets over lost opportunities and 
 youthful follies, his life in this ideal pueblo was full 
 of pleasing novelty, and if a shade of melancholy 
 sometimes visited him, as he remembered no child 
 hood or youthful friend or association, he felt none 
 of the pangs of their absence. 
 
 He was certainly somewhere in the neighborhood 
 of forty years of age, but he looked fully ten years 
 younger, and was a favorite with high and low. As 
 the Holcomb ranch was the only home of which he 
 had conscious knowledge, he stayed on, a welcome 
 friend and companion to its master. 
 
28 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 Francesca s curious devotion to him continued 
 unabated. She would sit for hours at his feet when 
 her work was done, either with idle hands or plaiting 
 willows for her baskets. She seemed to be able to 
 sense his approach from a distance and predict it to 
 the hour when he was absent on a hunt or rodeo, 
 and once, when she was absent at a tribal fandango 
 and he sustained a slight accident, she walked twenty 
 miles and appeared in the middle of the night at his 
 chamber door with "Sefior Estranjero call, I come." 
 
 It was evening, and El Estranjero and the master 
 of the house sat smoking upon the veranda. Holcomb 
 held in his hand a letter which he had just been read 
 ing to his friend. It was from Alice, the last she 
 would write before setting her face homeward, and 
 naturally the two men were chatting of her. 
 
 "You ll be surprised when you see her. How do 
 you remember her?" 
 
 "I think of her as a freckle-faced, long-limbed 
 youngster in a blue calico dress," smiled Estranjero, 
 "but she must be a grown woman now." 
 
 "She was four and twenty last May," responded 
 her father, "and pretty well grown, too, I tell you." 
 
 There was silence, broken after a moment by the 
 sudden appearance of Juan from around the corner of 
 the house. 
 
 "Senor Holcomb," he said, standing before his 
 master, "the lions kill the sheep. Every night it is 
 to some corral they go. Estidullo have lost half a 
 hundred, Kendalls six, ten," holding up his fingers to 
 
AFTER MANY YEARS 
 
 29 
 
 emphasize his words, "and last night, Sefior, it is 
 our corral. I lay among the sheep and watched. It 
 was bright as day, much moon shining. I slept not 
 the whole night, but before my very eyes, Sefior, two 
 sheep were carried away and three left dead in the 
 corral, though, Sefior, I, who watch like the fox, see 
 not one hair of the devil of a lion. Madre de Dios! 
 Sefior, what is it to do?" 
 
 "What shall we do, Estranjero?" queried Holcomb. f; 
 "If as good a hunter as Juan can t spot the beast, | 
 I m afraid I won t succeed." 
 
 Estranjero cogitated a few minutes. "Ah, I 
 it," he said at last. "Go you, Juan, to Estidullo and 
 to Kendall and all others in the pueblo who have 
 sheep, and tell them to house them safely to-night, so 
 that no lion can reach them. Then you and Manuel 
 and Pedro all bring your guns, and Mr. Holcomb 
 will meet you at the cabin a hundred yards below the 
 big sycamore tree. Take with you all the hounds, 
 and keep them safe and quiet in the house, until you 
 hear my gun. Then loose the dogs and come with all 
 speed to the sycamore tree, for I will stake a couple 
 of lambs there, hide myself, and when the lion comes 
 to get the lambs, which will bleat for their mothers, ^ 
 we will get him." 
 
 "Make haste, Juan," Mr. Holcomb ordered, "for we f 
 must all be there before the moon rises, and it is fully 
 up by nine o clock." 
 
 Juan was soon galloping bareback down the road 
 to carry the warnings to the sheep owners of the 
 
30 
 
 EL ESTEANJEKO 
 
 pueblo, and by moonrise all the preparations were 
 completed and El Estranjero in hiding within rifle 
 range of the bleating quarry. 
 
 It was nearly midnight when a crouching form 
 glided from the underbrush and sneaked toward the 
 lambs. Closely following were two half-grown cubs, 
 imitating their dam s every movement. Estranjero 
 waited until they were in the full moonlight, then 
 taking careful aim he fired, and the lioness fell pierced 
 to the heart. 
 
 The cubs made off into the thicket, but the men 
 and dogs from the cabin had now reached the scene 
 and formed a circle around the clump of bushes in 
 which the cubs had taken shelter. 
 
 One of the oldest and most daring of the hounds 
 ventured in to attack the cubs, but a powerful blow 
 from an unseen enemy sent him flying through the air 
 and landed him with a broken back at Juan s feet. 
 This was the first sign that had been given the hunt 
 ers of the presence of another full-grown lion in the 
 thicket, for all knew that it would have been impos 
 sible for either of the cubs to have given so powerful 
 a blow. They knew too that it would be a difficult and 
 dangerous task to dislodge him, and Estranjero 
 now ordered the Indians to leash the dogs, and hold 
 them in readiness, and, with his rifle cocked, made 
 his way into the thick brush. 
 
 There was a moment of intense suspense, then a 
 shot, and the daring hunter rushed out of the brush. 
 The dogfs were unleashed, but their only labor was to 
 
There ivas a moment of intense suspense." Page 30 
 
AFTER MANY YEAES 
 
 31 
 
 
 
 despatch the snarling cubs, which was easily accom 
 plished. Estranjero had seen the glaring eyes of the 
 lion and, firing directly between them, had instantly 1 
 killed him. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE SENORITA 
 
 As the train bearing Alice Holcomb sped westward, 
 she was like one in a dream. Hours at a time she 
 gazed out of the windows, seeing nothing of the 
 stretches of prairie or desert over which she was being 
 hurried, but instead there were visions of Old World 
 cities and palaces through which she had so lately 
 wandered. She was floating on the blue bosom of 
 Como; she was watching the light on the sails of the 
 Neapolitan fishing boat; she was listening to the 
 gypsy music in a Hungarian forest; she was on a 
 white Spanish road, and the tinkle of the mule bells 
 came faintly out of the magical distance. To herself 
 she almost seemed a disembodied spirit, whose past 
 was blended into a pleasing panorama of beautiful 
 sights and sounds, all that was ugly and unpleasant 
 sifted out and forgotten. 
 
 It was not until she came in sight of the Rockies 
 that her soul seemed to awaken and her emotions thrill 
 ier. 
 
 When the pine-clad heights of the Sierras came into 
 view, the tears suffused her eyes, and her heart cried 
 out, "Oh, mine own land, mine own land! There is 
 nothing in all the world so dear." Truly the Alps 
 were no more beautiful, nor the Rhine more enchant 
 ing to her than the mountain streams of her own 
 ^r^32] 
 
"Nothing in all th 
 
 Page 32 
 
THE SENOBITA 
 
 33 
 
 land tumbling through purple gorges shot with 
 golden light. 
 
 The valley of the Sacramento, the wide plain of the 
 great San Joaquin Valley and then San Francisco 
 straggling and unkempt upon its hills beside the blue 
 water, were full of delight to her; but when she was 
 at last upon the steamer, her face turned southward, 
 a great impatience possessed her. Now, indeed, 
 she felt she was really going home, back to her 
 own people, to swarthy Francesca and Juan, to dear 
 
 lonely Daddy who loved her so much, and to No, 
 
 he had forgotten her. For years he had not written 
 her a line, for years she had been able to smile as 
 she looked at the little horsehair ring. And she kept 
 it still. Oh, yes, she kept it, just as a memento of 
 her childhood. He would be an old man now, griz 
 zled and sad-faced like Daddy, and it would be 
 amusing to compare him with her childish picture of 
 him. 
 
 She remembered how one of her grown cousins 
 had visited the ranch when she was a little girl and 
 had seemed to her such a tall and magnificent crea 
 ture, and how she had seen him again a year or two 
 ago and found to her great astonishment that he was 
 actually undersized and deadly commonplace. It was 
 always so. Yet, somehow, it was a pity to dispel the if 
 illusions of childhood, was it not? Alice said she had?; 
 no illusions. She had seen society, she had traveled,, 
 she had read books; and illusions and knowledge arej 
 poor companions. 
 
34 
 
 EL ESTKANJEKO 
 
 Her home-coming was near the end of the "dry 
 season," that time in Southern California when the 
 foothills and plains are clothed in every tender and 
 beautiful tint of faded gold and dull green. It is that 
 time when the sage gives out its most penetrating 
 odor, when the wild anise flings forth its longest 
 plumes, when the chaparral is most fragrant, when the 
 light that is "always afternoon" seems to brood over 
 every purple canon, and the mountains stand out 
 against the divine blue of the sky with only here and 
 there a tiny snow cap upon the highest peaks. 
 
 In the East the autumn is a time of melancholy 
 reflections. The falling leaves are like letters of the 
 dead in which one reads of old delights and hours for 
 ever gone. The mist over the hills has a tinge of 
 sadness. October in California holds not only the 
 fruition of the year, but the promise of the future. 
 The air is odorous wine ; the light is a feast of glory, 
 the days are like the heart of summer, but of summer 
 with heat that warms and thrills, but never enervates. 
 The nights are cool and starry, and sweet with health- 
 giving slumber. 
 
 Alice s heart sang a song of joy, as by her father s 
 side she rode through what seemed almost a land of 
 enchantment. The pueblo of Los Angeles with its 
 quaint narrow streets and adobe buildings, with here 
 and there more pretentious structures, was unlike any 
 thing she had seen in her Old World wanderings. 
 
 They tarried there a few days, and then again took 
 horse and rode through the lovely valley of the San 
 
THE SENOEITA 
 
 35 
 
 Gabriel, with its light-crowned rim of foothills, like 
 wrinkled purple plush in a jewel box, and its fair rich 
 plains, upon which thousands of cattle grazed on grass 
 which in the lowlands and meadows is forever green. 
 The ever-varying loveliness marked it as a Paradise 
 where some day those fortunate souls should dwell who 
 can wed beauty to utility. 
 
 On through the fair Pomona Valley, through the 
 "redlands," and at last Elevado with its vine-covered 
 dwellings and its orchards came into view. 
 
 Juan had ridden with his master to attend the 
 Senorita to her home; it was he who hobbled the 
 horses by the stream when they halted for the night, 
 who brought wood for their fire and water for their 
 cooking. 
 
 Juan was surely the happiest Indian in all the land, 
 for had not the Senorita remembered that he carried 
 her on his back when she was a little child, and had 
 not the Senorita brought him a magnificent silver 
 watch, and so taught him to tell the time, that when 
 he looked at the sun, he could say, "It is now an hour 
 till midday, 1 and then his watch would say "Si, si." 
 And had not the Senorita given him a silver key for 
 that watch, which put in a little hole in the back of 
 it and twisted would make a most curious sound? 
 
 And the Senorita is taller, yes, much taller than 
 when she went away, and her hair is like the corn 
 silk and her eyes blue, and her skin, it is that milk- 
 white and rosy, that the sun no more makes spots 
 upon it, and the Senorita speaks like a great lady, 
 
36 
 
 EL ESTBANJEKO 
 
 and her hands are white, and she walks straight as a 
 pine tree. But ah, her smile. Well let Manuel await 
 that smile, and even the picture of the Virgin in the 
 Mission of the San Gabriel is not more heavenly 
 sweet than the face of the Senorita when she smiles. 
 All this Juan related to Manuel when Alice and 
 her father, arrived at last at their home, were ridding 
 themselves of the stains of travel. 
 
"Had hunted for three days." Page 37 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 HOME AGAIN 
 
 With what varying feelings Alice Holcomb re- 
 entered her old home can be imagined by those who 
 have had such an experience. Here everything was 
 unchanged, but she missed oddly a freckle-faced, long- 
 limbed child, that was herself, and she missed poign 
 antly the sweet-faced mother who was the center of 
 that childish life. There was another whom she missed, 
 too, El Estranjero. 
 
 He had thought upon the daughter s first entry 
 after so long an absence, that perhaps father and 
 daughter would prefer to have their home to them 
 selves, and with the delicacy which was a part of his 
 nature, had withdrawn, leaving word with Francesca 
 that he, Marco, and Pedro would go to the moun 
 tains to get venison. 
 
 They had hunted and fished for three days with 
 varying success, and had killed four fine deer and a 
 medium-sized black bear. They had cut the meat of 
 the deer into strips and dried it in the sun, hanging 
 the meat upon poles resting in the crotches of trees. 
 The bear had climbed the tree after the venison, and 
 Juan had brought him down with his rifle. They 
 had camped in a log cabin, once the home of a pros- 
 - pector, and El Estranjero had conducted the hunt 
 purposely in a leisurely manner, in order that Alice 
 
 [37] 
 
38 
 
 EL ESTRANJEKO 
 
 should have been two or three days at home before 
 their return. 
 
 He planned an equally leisurely return and, loading 
 their venison upon their horses, they made a detour 
 to the southwest of their hunting lodge to the brow 
 of the mountain above Dry Lake. From this point 
 they could see the whole upper valley and even far 
 out across the Pacific. It was morning when they 
 arrived at the summit. To the left and beyond the 
 bed of the Santa Ana River, lay the sloping hills of 
 the "redlands." In the middle foreground was stately 
 Mount Slover, to the right, the pueblo of Elevado, with 
 its flocks and herds, its orchards of oranges, and its 
 vineyards. Through them wound the shining river, 
 bordered by shimmering poplars and graceful willows 
 and by meadows delicately brown from the summer 
 sun. 
 
 Over the brow of the hill they passed The Seven 
 Oaks and Mountain Home, as a lonely cabin there was 
 called. Through the "redlands," over valley and river 
 they fared, reaching home late at night after the 
 dwellers in the house with the patio were deep in 
 slumber. The delay in Los Angeles had frustrated 
 El Estranjero s kindly idea concerning the return of 
 his friends, and he had come back but a few hours 
 
 1 after their arrival. 
 
 It was early in the morning when Alice, dressed in 
 a simple blue cotton gown with a white linen band at 
 throat, and with her golden hair gathered in a 
 
 k loose coil at the nape of her neck, issued from the 
 
HOME AGAIN 
 
 39 
 
 patio. Even old Francesca was not yet busied with 
 the breakfast. 
 
 It was the girl s fancy to see her home alone in the 
 early morning. The night before she had wandered 
 through the house with her father, but both were tired, 
 and he was sad ; now she would see the haunts she had 
 loved. There was the pepper tree where Daddy had 
 made her a seat high up in the branches, yes, the seat 
 was there yet, and there, too, were the strips of wood 
 nailed upon its sloping trunk. She would climb up 
 later with her book and sit on her old perch. 
 
 There was the rosebush, too; it now roofed the 
 entire patio, and its lower stem was as thick as her 
 slender waist. No such roses in Provence, she was 
 sure, as those that grew here. There was the kettle, 
 not the same, for kettles are not immortal, but look 
 ing the same, yes, the very kettle in which Francesca 
 used to boil the tamales. 
 
 A couple of hounds rose from their rest upon the 
 veranda, sniffed inquiringly about her, decided that she 
 was to their liking, and followed as she wandered 
 slowly toward the orchard. The sun was not yet risen, 
 but a faint radiance touched the east. She would 
 climb the meadow hill to watch the sunrise. 
 
 She made a fair picture as, lithe and straight, her 
 smiling red lips half-parted over her white teeth, her 
 cheeks faintly flushed with rose, her head uplifted as 
 though she were about to break into a song of joy, 
 she walked lightly on, followed by the two dogs. 
 
 It was here, yes, it was in this very spot, that she 
 
40 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 / 
 
 last saw El Estranjero, under that tree by the cypress 
 hedge; but how tall the hedge had grown, and a gate 
 had been cut through it to the meadow. 
 
 At that instant the gate opened. The hounds made 
 a joyful leap toward a man who came through it with 
 a bridle over his arm. His sombrero shaded his face, 
 but in an instant the hat was in his hand and he was 
 bowing before her. 
 
 And was this El Estranjero, this man with the light 
 of youth in his gray eyes, with the joy of youth in 
 his pose, with his brown curls blowing about a 
 forehead white and unmarked with wrinkles? The 
 pictures her childish fancy had made of him were not 
 so gallant as this. These thoughts went swiftly 
 through her mind as she offered him her hand with a 
 clear ringing laugh. 
 
 "Senor Estranjero, I am glad to see you, but you 
 have spoiled my story that I am the only early riser 
 on the Holcomb Ranch." 
 
 "Can this be Alice," Estranjero said. Then for 
 the first time in many years he remembered the scene 
 under the orange tree, the horsehair ring, the words 
 the little tear-stained, freckled-faced girl had made 
 him repeat and, looking into the eyes of the beautiful 
 woman before him, a strange thrill went through him. 
 He wondered if she had forgotten it, but of course 
 she had, or else she could not look at him with so 
 unembarrassed a gaze. 
 
 And Alice was saying to herself : 
 
 "He has forgotten it, and I am glad. I should die 
 
 P 
 
HOME AGAIN 41 
 
 of shame if he knew about the ring being kept all 
 these years, but he is the Prince. I am glad that I 
 know him now, at this first moment, as the one and 
 only one that my heart acknowledges. Now I know 
 why the men who have admired me and desired me 
 have never touched a single chord of feeling. Now I 
 know, but he must never know it, for he does not 
 
 care." 
 
 She exchanged a few laughing words with him 
 and passsed on into the meadow, and Estranjero from 
 the safe shelter of the hedge, himself unseen, leaned 
 against the tree that had witnessed his vow to a little 
 child long ago, and watched the graceful woman pass ; 
 watched her climb the hill with the free grace of the 
 trained walker; watched her stand with her face 
 turned eastward like some fair prophetess, awaiting 
 the coming of the god of day. 
 
 He was a mature man in brain and body, and he 
 felt now the first thrill of love of which he had ever 
 been conscious, and with it was no taint to mar the 
 holiness of the feeling. It was the thrill of unsullied 
 youth and innocence, in the presence of a sweet mys 
 tery. The love of childhood for its mate, of boy 
 hood for the girlish ideal, these were unknown to 
 Estranjero, for, if they had ever existed, they had 
 been blotted out when memory of his name, place, 
 station and experiences had been wiped off the tablet 
 of his life, and with the power of a man and the pas 
 sion of youth he could grasp and drink from the 
 pure fountain of a first love. 
 
42 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 He was not thinking these things. He was not think 
 ing at all as he watched her pass. In soul he was with 
 her, treading with her the brown field, standing with 
 her fronting the east, and hand in hand was watching 
 with her the sunrise of a new day. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE WARNING 
 
 When Alice Holcomb had started for her western 
 home her cousin Philip had been her companion until 
 they reached St. Louis. There he was compelled to 
 remain a fortnight to transact some business for his 
 father, and Alice, impatient of the delay, had traveled 
 the remaining distance to San Pedro alone. 
 
 In a few days after her arrival, her father received 
 a letter from the young man announcing his early 
 coming, but as he proposed buying a horse at San 
 Pedro to ride to Elevado, and as he was familiar with 
 the way, having traveled it many times with his Uncle 
 Holcomb, he would need no one from the ranch to 
 guide him. 
 
 In the years Alice had been in school, Philip had 
 spent most of his vacations upon his uncle s ranch, 
 and now that he was out of college, his father was 
 yielding to his earnest wish and was allowing him to 
 come West to buy a ranch and grow up with the 
 country. 
 
 Philip spoke the patois of the California Indians;" 
 as well as the pure Spanish of the descendants 
 of the Conquistadores. He was a well-set-up young 
 man, with olive skin and dark eyes, and would have 
 almost passed for a Spaniard, having many of the 
 physical characteristics of the_ race. He could ride, 
 
44 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 hunt, and swim, was well known to the people of the 
 pueblo and knew them all, and Alice looked forward 
 to his arrival with pleasure. 
 
 She had busied herself in those days with making 
 herself acquainted with the routine of the household 
 of which she henceforth was to be active mistress. 
 Old Francesca had two years before been grum- 
 blingly compelled to allow Vera to share her labors 
 in the kitchen, and now that the young Senorita had 
 come Francesca felt her authority over the other 
 servants to be vastly strengthened, and Alice humored 
 her in this notion. 
 
 The days went by swiftly, full of pleasures and of 
 duties. There were visits of the neighbors to be 
 received and returned, long rides with her father when 
 he went to attend to the cattle or upon some business 
 of the ranch. But it was in the evening hours when 
 the stars pulsed overhead and the fragrant wind blew 
 softly from the mountains that the girl, sitting on the 
 veranda with her father and El Estranjero while they 
 smoked and chatted, felt herself most keenly alive and 
 that a mysterious joy throbbed the universe of which 
 she was a part. 
 
 El Estranjero seldom addressed her, but sat always 
 where he could see the lovely profile, the slender 
 hands folded loosely in her lap, the contour of her 
 , lithe body as she sat in her favorite place upon the 
 steps of the patio with her head leaning against the 
 rose-wreathed veranda pillar. 
 
 >ke little, but not a word that fell from 
 
"A mysterious joy throbbed the universe ." Page 44 
 
THE WARNING 
 
 45 
 
 the lips of El Estranjero escaped her. His voice was 
 low and mellow, and his talk of the impersonal 
 sort that plainly shows an entire lack of egotism. 
 Alice had heard from her father and friends various 
 stories of encounters with Indians and wild animals 
 in which El Estranjero had figured since becoming 
 a member of the Holcomb household, but he himself 
 never mentioned a personal exploit or experience. 
 
 His judgments were singularly just and charitable, 
 his outlook upon life that of an optimist who sees in 
 every man his brother. His love for nature was a 
 passion sincere and deep. In those hours while she 
 studied him, Alice Holcomb saw that this was a man 
 whose singular affliction if his complete loss of 
 memory of his former life could be called an affliction 
 had been a real blessing, and whose attitude toward 
 life was the most normal of any that she had ever 
 known. Unwarped by prejudices, for former judg 
 ments he had none, he took every living creature and 
 valued it by the light of a mature and recent experi 
 ence, with no conflicting or disturbing comparisons - 
 to distort his mental vision. His handsome features, 
 noble height, his voice, his manner, his mind and soul 
 all seemed to blend into one delightful personality. 
 
 Alice was no mere school girl; she was a mature 
 woman, who had seen the social life of her own and 
 other lands, had been sought after for her beauty and 
 charm, had been beloved, and had often felt a secret 
 rage with herself that her own nature seemed so cold 
 and unresponsive. Now, however, she felt that at 
 
46 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 last she had come into her own and cherished this deep 
 and silent passion with a solemn joy. 
 
 Upon the evening when Philip s arrival was being 
 discussed by her father and Estranjero, she turned 
 toward them suddenly. 
 
 "Father," she said, "when will you have the fall 
 rodeo?" 
 
 "We will begin next week, little girl, and it will be 
 great fun this year, and we ll have all the cattlemen 
 from the Tehachipis to the Mexican line. Philip will 
 be just in time for it, and you will see one of the sights 
 of your life. It will not be many years before the 
 cattle business in this region will be given up entirely, 
 for land where oranges can be grown, as they can be 
 here with proper irrigation, will soon be too valuable 
 for cattle range." 
 
 "But, Daddy, you surely don t think we ll ever 
 have here a thickly settled country like that east of 
 the Mississippi River?" 
 
 "Alice, you ll live to see the pueblo of Los Angeles 
 a city larger than St. Louis and every foot of the 
 range orchards yellow with oranges. But we won t 
 borrow trouble." He rose as he spoke and strolled 
 out of the patio toward the corrals. 
 
 Estranjero sat very still watching the girl with her 
 face toward the pure light of the stars. His eyes 
 lingered upon the fair, sensitive features and a mist 
 came before him. An instant and it passed and old 
 Francesca was crouching at his feet, her hands clasp 
 ing her knees, and rocking back and forth. 
 
THE WAENING 
 
 47 
 
 "Sefior Estranjero, Non ! Non !" she whispered, and 
 again, "Non! Non!" in a very passion of negation. 
 
 His face grew white as he gazed at the old woman 
 and something like fear seized him. What was the 
 bond between him and this wrinkled, half-savage 
 crone? Did she have that sense sometimes attributed 
 to faithful dogs who are said to know their master s 
 feelings, or was there knowledge of some sort behind 
 the mystery of her actions? 
 
 As yet Alice had not noticed Francesca, for the 
 shadows fell darkest where Estranjero sat; but now 
 the old woman began to moan softly and to mutter, 
 "Oh, the little child, Mother of God, the little child," 
 and Alice turned toward her. 
 
 "Juan," she cried sharply, "Juan!" The Indian 
 came running at the call of his mistress, and seeing 
 his mother rocking back and forth on the floor, lifted 
 her and led her away, and El Estranjero, with a 
 muttered word of apology, strode to the corral, roped 
 and saddled his horse, and rode away into the star 
 light night as he was wont to ride when something 
 had disturbed him. 
 
 5 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE RODEO 
 
 Elevado was all astir with preparations for the fall 
 round-up. This year the branding corrals were being 
 built in the meadows just outside the pueblo, and here 
 the cattle from the thousands of acres of range would 
 be herded, the beef steers cut out and segregated by 
 their owners, and the cows and their calves corralled 
 that the branding of the young might be properly done 
 and the marking attended to. 
 
 There would be dozens of chuck-wagons and scores 
 of cowboys, the most skillful in the land, and there 
 would be the usual number of young men and women 
 from the surrounding pueblos to whom a great rodeo 
 was as interesting as though they had not seen it 
 every year since their childhood. There would be, 
 too, that sprinkling of "tenderfeet" that had always 
 been drawn upon such occasions, but best of all this 
 year there was to be a dancing pavilion down by the 
 river, and the youth, even from far-away Los 
 ;;Angeles, would grace the occasion. 
 
 The labor and the attendant festivities of the rodeo 
 would last a week, and to accommodate the visitors, 
 a series of wickiups, or brush houses like those used 
 the California Indians, were built along the river. 
 
 Long tables, too, were made of rough lumber nailed 
 tree to tree under the cottonwoods, trenches dug 
 [48] 
 
 , 
 
Now it would be a lank cowboy on his wiry little horse." Page 49 
 
THE KODEO 
 
 49 
 
 for the cooking of the meats, corn pounded for tor 
 tillas, tamales boiled, and all the accessories of a great 
 California fiesta were added to the excitement of the 
 rodeo. 
 
 No rodeo was complete without its Indian camp, 
 and to the Indians the mavericks, or calves which 
 were motherless and whose ownership therefore could 
 not be determined, were given, and it was to the 
 Indian servants of the pueblo that the barbecuing and 
 serving of the meat would be entrusted, as well as the 
 preparation of the chile con carne, the tortillas and 
 frijoles and other celebrated dishes they had learned 
 from their Spanish masters to concoct. 
 
 To Alice this rodeo was a Western epic written 
 in the bellowing of the herds, the thunder of the 
 hoofs of the horses, and the swirling of riatas, and day 
 after day she rode out with her father, Philip, and 
 El Estranjero, and from some little hill safely out of 
 the path of the drivers, she watched the scene through 
 the mist of sunlit dust. 
 
 Rejoicing always in the sight of swift motion, to 
 her these matchless riders of the plains were a de 
 light. Now it would be a lank cowboy on his wiry 
 little horse, riding like a demon through underbrush 
 and over ditches to head off some recalcitrant steer ; or 
 it would be half a dozen sweat-begrimed riders urg 
 ing a great bunch of cattle toward the corral, then 
 cutting out with swift descending quirt the branded 
 steers, and driving in with equal skill cows and 
 calves. 
 
50 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 Not seldom the pursued turned pursuer, and then 
 it was a pretty race if some maddened old cow made 
 after her tormentor. Such marvelous riding, such 
 feats with the lariat, such quick work with the mark 
 ing knife and branding iron! Surely there was virile 
 manhood in this great Southwest that could face the 
 constant danger of this life in the saddle, and Alice 
 said many times to herself as she watched the scene, 
 "It is my own land and they are my own people. 
 This is not all they can do, and many of those men 
 there are fit to be President of the United States or 
 Minister to the Court of St. James. Best of all, they 
 are men, and the West is in them, this wide, free, 
 beautiful land." 
 
 Oftenest her eyes dwelt on a rider on a coal-black 
 horse, whose skillful "throws," whose feats of horse 
 manship, whose grace and agility drew from even the 
 taciturn cowboys many admiring comments, 
 
 "I tell you, Alice, Estranjero s a dandy," said 
 Philip, as he sat on his horse beside her. "Look at 
 him cutting out that steer. Did you ever see any 
 thing prettier? And look at him rope that calf! Not 
 a Spanish vaquero of them all can handle a riata 
 better than he does, and he s modest, too, no brag 
 in him." 
 
 There was the usual racing, cock-fighting, ring- 
 shooting, quoit-pitching, running, and wrestling, with 
 out which any such fiesta would have been incomplete, 
 and surely no beef ever tasted so ambrosial as did 
 
"Cutting out with swift descending quirt. f Page 49 
 
THE RODEO 51 
 
 that cooked in those trenches and served to the guests 
 at the rodeo. 
 
 Most of the chuck-wagons provided for their own 
 outfits, but the cowboys were welcomed at the tables 
 down by the river, where were bright-eyed senoritas 
 in their picturesque Spanish dress, and the rosy- 
 complexioned daughters of the ranchers dividing the 
 honors with them among even the smartly-dressed 
 vaqueros of their own race; even swarthy-skinned 
 Mexican beauties in their bright red, green, and yel 
 low calico skirts and brilliant bodices looked good to 
 these men who often were for months at a time cut 
 off from the enjoyment of the society of women. 
 
 To Alice the color and gayety of the days of this 
 week of the rodeo seemed worth traveling half across 
 
 e world to enjoy. The peasant festivals of Europe 
 tame indeed beside this fiesta of her own people. 
 
 As\ the days were full of excitement, the nights 
 were lull of pleasure. The Spanish musicians, with 
 their guirars and mandolins, played the music for the 
 dance from, the time the stars began to twinkle in 
 the sky till they waned before the light of the sun. 
 Alice danced and feasted and flirted with the rest, 
 giving herself uK to the pleasures of the hour with 
 the zest that charmed her neighbors, many of whom 
 had privately expressed the view that "Miss Holcomb 
 was sure to be stuck \p after all those years back 
 East and her long travel\n Europe." 
 
 Philip was a beau amonV the belles of all colors, 
 at the fiesta. He dispensedNris favors with such a 
 
 \< 
 
52 EL ESTRANJEEO 
 
 lavish hand and widespread generosity that all the 
 girls claimed him, but none could lay a special claim, 
 a state of affairs that made him as much a favorite 
 with the swains as with the girls themselves, for there 
 could be no jealousy of the dashing youth who smiled 
 on all the ladies alike. 
 
 El Estranjero did not dance, but one night, when 
 Alice sat upon a bench in the pavilion, he leaned over 
 her as he stood outside and said softly, "If you will 
 come with me, Miss Alice, I will show you one of 
 the sights of the fiesta that you have not yet seen." 
 
 He led her out of the circle of light thrown by the 
 candles fastened to the poles that upheld the pavilion 
 roof, down the river, far beyond the barbecue tables, 
 to a point where the stream curved sharply, shutting 
 out the view of the wickiups, and before them, shel 
 tered from view of the merrymakers by screening 
 willows, was the camp of the California Indians. 
 
 Before a small fire that gave sufficient light for 
 them to see one another, sat eight Indians, in two 
 rows, facing one another. Surrounding them were 
 interested spectators of a curious game which they 
 were playing. 
 
 Four of the players held a blanket with their 
 teeth in such a manner as to conceal their hands from 
 their opponents. A sort of flexible bracelet, slipped 
 from the wrist of one of the players, was passed from 
 hand to hand. At the same time the players made 
 every possible motion and contortion likely to mislead 
 those of the opposite group as they took turns in 
 
THE RODEO 
 
 53 
 
 guessing who held the bracelet. The person designated 
 as the supposed holder must fling up his hands the 
 instant his name was called. Thereupon an umpire, 
 sitting with a pile of sticks before him, would pass a 
 stick to the successful guesser, to be redeemed later 
 with money or valuables, as it was considered as a 
 sort of note of hand. 
 
 Behind each row of players sat four squaws chanting 
 a weird, savage song as encouragement to their own 
 band of players. 
 
 They are playing Teon. They keep it up all 
 night and for a week at a time," whispered El Estran- 
 jero to Alice, "and if they are not prevented, will 
 
 mble away their money, horses, clothes, blankets, 
 anbseven pledge their squaws and children." 
 
 Tnfcy watched the game for some time, and then 
 g. softly W& the spot. 
 
 "Shall JN^ake you back to the dancers now?" asked 
 -"* Estranjero. 
 
 "No," replieck Alice, "I think I will go home, I 
 have danced enough for one week. To-morrow the 
 fiesta will be over. XThe rodeo is practically ended, 
 father says, and then ft^e cattle will be gathered for 
 the markets and cut fronTstfie herds, and the rest left 
 on pasture. Come, let us walk home the 
 lovely, and the air delightfully 
 
 So, under the light of the Mars El Estranjero 
 crossed the brown fields with Alice^ 
 as they came to some rock or ditch, m\hand touched 
 hers as he helped her to cross it, and 
 
 ig 
 
EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 contact his pulses thrilled. Her dress was pale rose- 
 color, and as the moon came up and its light fell upon 
 her lithe figure as she walked with the free grace that 
 was so characteristic of her, to El Estranjero she 
 seemed a rose nodding upon a stem, a rose just opening, 
 which he yearned to pluck and wear upon his heart 
 forever. 
 
 Then the presumption of harboring such a thought 
 came to him. She was young and he, well, he too 
 was young. He smiled at the thought, for though 
 he had undoubtedly lived much longer, she knew more 
 years than did he. But she had traveled, had met 
 handsome and distinguished men. Among them there 
 might be one to whom the sweet rose s heart turned 
 with all its fragrance. 
 
 They spoke of the game of "Peon," of the rodeo, 
 the barbecue, the dance, but neither by word nor sign 
 revealed the joy each felt in the presence of the other. 
 No look or pressure of the hand as they went across 
 that moonlit field betrayed that in their souls was "the 
 light that shone o er Eden." 
 
 At last they reached the steps to the veranda, and 
 Alice sank down in her favorite place. The house 
 was quiet. The Indian servants were still at the fiesta 
 and Holcomb, too, was somewhere among the guests 
 of the pueblo. Estranjero leaned against the opposite 
 pillar and looked down upon Alice. 
 
 Suddenly from among the roses overhead a mock 
 ing bird began to trill. Alice rose from her seat and 
 with parted lips stood listening to his song. It swelled 
 
THE RODEO 55 
 
 louder and more ecstatic. Estranjero advanced a step 
 as though the music had woven a spell over him. 
 Irresistibly Alice s glance sought his and standing 
 thus they looked long and deeply into each other s 
 eyes. Over and over the mocking bird trilled a soft, 
 sweet call. "Alice," breathed Estranjero, "it is the 
 call of my soul to you. Oh, my beloved, can you not 
 reply?" 
 
 From out the shadow of the patio old Francesca 
 flung herself between them. "Non," she cried, "Non, 
 Sefior Estranjero. Oh, my senorita, my little white 
 dove ! It grows dark, I cannot see. Ah he ! Ah he ! 
 there is sorrow for you." 
 
 "Go," said Alice to Estranjero, who stared in horror 
 at the old w 7 oman. "It is just one of her seizures. I 
 will take her to her quarters. Go, for you seem to 
 excite her!" 
 
 All the rest of that night Alice Holcomb knelt by 
 her window, her heart filled with perplexity, and at 
 dawn El Estranjero came back from a ride that left 
 his horse fagged for many days. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE RAID 
 
 The rodeo was over, the wickiups deserted, the bar 
 becue fires dead. Carriages and wagons carrying the 
 guests had been departing since early morning, and 
 horseback riders with many a curvet had disappeared 
 in the dust, and only a few chuck-wagons here and 
 there, surrounded by lounging cowboys and with 
 remudas feeding on the plain, remained when evening 
 fell. These, too, would be gone on the morrow, but 
 for to-night they would herd their bunches and move 
 on in the cool of the morning. 
 
 Supper was over at the Holcomb ranch. Alice lay 
 in a hammock swung at the side of the veranda nearest 
 the great rosebush. Her father paced back and forth, 
 his hands behind his back, his fireless pipe held between 
 his teeth. 
 
 "I can t make out why Pedro and Juan are so 
 long away," he said to Estranjero, who sat in his 
 usual place, but to-night with downcast gaze. 
 
 Estranjero was suffering the torments of the lover 
 who, though declared, is unanswered. Alice had 
 avoided him all day, had not once lifted her eyes to 
 his, and had addressed no word to him but mono 
 syllabic commonplaces. Her face was colorless, and 
 her manner cold. Had his presumption offended her? 
 
7/<? Indians had annoyed the ranchers." Page 60 
 
THE KAID 
 
 57 
 
 Oh, for an hour alone with her that he might pour out 
 his heart! 
 
 Had he been able to look into her soul, he would 
 have known that the outward coldness covered emo 
 tions so powerful that to hold them in check required 
 all her self-control. It was this that gave her an air 
 of haughtiness. In the long night hours when she 
 knelt at her window, she had gone over in her mind 
 again and again the scene upon the veranda and the 
 avowal that had been so strangely interrupted by 
 Francesca. What sorrow did her old nurse see 
 hovering over her? Let it come, if only Love was 
 there with his divine breath of healing. Yes, she 
 could face sorrow, if only this beauty that life had 
 shown her did not pass away. 
 
 But this man was El Estranjero, a stranger, and 
 one whose past life might hold its claims against him. 
 Was there even now some hand reached forth to tear 
 him away from the peace of the pastoral life that he 
 loved and from her who loved him so deeply? 
 
 This was the thought her mind reiterated as she 
 lay in the hammock, her eyes following her father s 
 restless pacing. 
 
 Finally she turned her gaze idly toward the moun 
 tain where a faint flush upon the sky was growing 
 brighter and brighter. 
 
 "Father," she said, "what is that?" 
 
 "Oh, that s a brush fire at the mill, I suppose," was 
 the answer. "The millmen burn the refuse once in 
 a while, but not usually at this time of the year when 
 
58 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 the underbrush is so dry. It may be a camp fire, but 
 that s hardly likely." 
 
 They all watched the glow as it died and rose again 
 and flamed and sank. It was nearly ten o clock when 
 Holcomb resumed his restless pacing. 
 
 "I sent Juan and Pedro to round up a bunch of 
 steers that we couldn t find when we brought in the 
 herd three days ago. Kendall said he saw them a 
 couple of weeks ago feeding in a cienega on the edge 
 of the desert. Juan and Pedro knew the place, and 
 they ought to have been back before dark to-night 
 at the very latest. I don t know why I feel so uneasy, 
 but I have a sort of premonition that something has 
 happened." 
 
 "Hark!" cried Alice, "I hear something." 
 
 Holcomb listened and sure enough there was the 
 thud of the hoofs of galloping horses, and the next 
 instant Juan and Pedro came into view in the star 
 light, riding like the wind, and drew up their panting 
 and foam-covered horses at the veranda steps. 
 
 Juan threw his reins over the horse s neck and 
 hurried forward, but Pedro got stiffly and lamely down 
 and almost fell across the steps. 
 
 The group upon the porch had started forward. 
 Here was something unusual, and Pedro! He was 
 hurt! A soiled rag was bound across his forehead 
 and his face was covered with dried and clotted blood, 
 while one arm hung limply by his side. 
 
 "Lights here!" roared Holcomb, and Vera and 
 
THE EAID 59 
 
 Francesca hurried from the kitchen at the call, both 
 carrying flickering candles. 
 
 "Sefior," cried the usually phlegmatic Juan. 
 "Hasten, Sefior, for the love of God! The Indians! 
 They have killed the men at the mill and set the mill 
 on fire. Pedro and I saw the fire, and as we were 
 nearly there with the cattle, we hurried a little. From 
 an open spot we saw Indians making their dance 
 around it, so we hid our horses in the woods and crept 
 up like foxes. We knew there were four men there, 
 and we saw them all dead and scalped, lying one here 
 and one there. 
 
 "All this we saw, Pedro and I, and were creeping 
 back to the horses, like snakes, upon the belly, when 
 Pedro fell over an Indian, without doubt one who had 
 been sent to watch. Quick as a cat Pedro grasped his 
 throat with both hands, so that he might not call out, 
 and before I could stab him, he cut Pedro here upon 
 the head and arm. It took him not long to die, for 
 I stabbed again and again. Then we got to horse and 
 here we are." 
 
 All this Juan related in the Indian patois, and said 
 further, "Sefior, they are coming to attack the pueblo. 
 They know the rodeo is ended and many cattle are 
 near, and they think to surprise the pueblo, drive many A 
 cattle off into the mountains, and be away before 
 they can be caught. They know not that the cow 
 boys are not yet all gone, or they would not dare." 
 
 Philip had come up while Juan was telling his tale, 
 and El Estranjero was thinking swiftly. 
 
 ~^sg 
 
60 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "We must raise the alarm at once," he said. 
 
 Holcomb turned to Estranjero. "Take Juan to 
 guide you, and Manuel, Marco, and Jose," he said. 
 "Go back toward the mill and ambush them where 
 the trail turns toward the pueblo. When we hear you 
 begin firing, we will be ready for them. 
 
 "You, Philip, take the roan, ride to every cow- 
 camp out there on the prairie, tell them what s up and 
 ask them to bring their remudas and wagons in, and all 
 their men to help us. I will go to the Plaza and light 
 the bonfire that is always ready there as a signal of 
 danger, and you, Alice, and the women will be safe 
 here unless the pueblo should be taken, and it won t 
 be, now that their surprise is going to be a failure." 
 
 In half an hour s time every man in the pueblo and 
 the thirty cowboys that were with the outfits were 
 busy throwing up a crescent-shaped breastwork in 
 front of the chapel, one end of the defense resting 
 against the high adobe wall about its patio, and the 
 other against an adobe-walled corral a short distance 
 away. The operations were conducted with the utmost 
 ? silence and haste. All the lights in the pueblo were 
 extinguished, as though the inhabitants were wrapped 
 in slumber. 
 
 It was not merely for defense that these prepara 
 tions were made. Whether the force should be large 
 or small, the settlers determined to give the Indians a 
 well-merited lesson. 
 
 For years the Indians of the Pah-Ute and Chima- 
 hueva tribes had annoyed the ranchers of the neigh- 
 
Indians stampeding horses 
 
THE EAID 61 
 
 borhood by their thieving raids, running off horses 
 and cattle and driving them into the fastnesses of 
 Nevada. Now and then they would murder some 
 isolated family, and their latest crime called for 
 immediate punishment. 
 
 It was about two o clock in the morning when the 
 force within the pueblo, lying upon its arms behind 
 the breastworks, finally heard the distant crack of a 
 rifle, and knew that the enemy was approaching. 
 The Indians evidently thought that the firing of this 
 gun was by some lone ranchman who had secreted 
 himself upon seeing their approach, and they hurried 
 on to surprise the pueblo before it should take alarm. 
 
 Estranjero, however, had so placed his men that 
 after the initial shot, there was no more firing until 
 ^5 the savages were within range of the guns of the 
 > defenders, then the five men all attacked the enemy 
 rom the rear while the defenders attacked them from 
 [ the front. 
 
 In a few minutes the Indians were completely routed, 
 ;, and when the day dawned there lay a hundred dead 
 Indians before the earthworks, and later on a dozen 
 more were found where they had died of their wounds, 
 having been abandoned. Probably those less seriously 
 injured were carried away by their comrades, as is the 
 Indian custom, for sometimes they not only carry off 
 their wounded, but as many of their dead as possible, 
 in order to conceal their losses from their foes. 
 
 That this was a large band and must be followed 
 and exterminated if the pueblo was to enjoy peace, 
 
62 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 *& 
 
 was at once apparent. As El Estranjero, Philip 
 and Holcomb sat at table the next morning at breakfast, 
 the gravity of the situation was discussed, and it was 
 decided that ten well armed men would be able to 
 cope with the Indians on a still hunt, for the savages 
 had only poor and antiquated rifles, tomahawks, and 
 bows and arrows, and depended largely for success 
 on surprises such as that at the mill and such as they 
 had evidently planned for the pueblo. 
 
 Juan, as the best guide in the whole country and 
 the cleverest trailer, would be one that must go. As a 
 "friendly," associated with the whites all his life, he 
 had no more compunction against slaying a hostile 
 than he would have had at killing a rattlesnake, and 
 1 fjj it was the same with the other "friendlies" of this and 
 | surrounding pueblos. The fidelity of these California 
 | Indians to their Spanish masters, and later to the 
 Gringo ranchers who superseded them, was most sin 
 cere, and was no more to be suspected than that of 
 any other dweller in the pueblos. 
 
 Old Manuel and Estranjero, with Juan and Philip, 
 were the volunteers from the Holcomb ranch, and six 
 other equally skillful woodsmen were selected to go 
 with them, but as our interests are with the dwellers, 
 guests, and servants of the house built about three 
 sides of a square, we will follow their fortunes and 
 leave history to relate the exploits of the others. 
 
 f 
 
 ^>^ 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 PHILIP 
 
 Philip Allen had been but a week at Elevado, and 
 in that time he had "experienced more thrills," to use 
 his own expression, than would have been his lot in 
 months or perhaps years of the placid life of the 
 Massachusetts village where he was born. 
 
 He was speaking of this as he lounged on the 
 ground in the patio near Alice, who, heavy-eyed and L 
 pallid from the excitement and conflict of emotions > 
 through which she had passed in the last few days, ? 
 was sitting on a low bench listening to his enthusiastic " 
 account of the night s battle. In half an hour he was 
 to start for the mountains on the trail of the hostiles, 
 and was now waiting until Manuel and the other:" 
 servants should have the canteens and water casks in 
 readiness. They intended to follow the foe into the 
 desert, if necessary, and would bear with them thesej? 
 empty receptacles, that they might fill them from some! 
 mountain stream if they found it advisable to cross ; ! 
 the desert. 
 
 The general direction of the trail was well estab-3T 
 lished, and the only points at which it could cross the 
 desert was in the line of the water-holes, every one 
 of which was known to Juan, and of course to the^2> 
 hostiles. It was decided that Manuel and Marco " 
 should proceed with their water vessels to a chosen 
 
 [63] 
 
 
64 
 
 EL EiSTRANJEBO 
 
 point, making a detour by a trail that the savages 
 were not likely to pass, one man to act as scout and 
 the other as convoy. 
 
 Philip was telling Alice these things and, as he lay 
 at her feet, his handsome, eager face raised to hers, 
 the two made a picture which El Estranjero, then 
 approaching from the meadow through the gate in 
 the cypress hedge, noticed with a pang. 
 
 "What was it that Philip was saying so eagerly to 
 her?" he thought. "Was he telling her that he was 
 going into danger, that her image would be with him 
 in the dim fastness of the forest, that she was the star 
 of his hope?" 
 
 What he was actually saying was: 
 
 "Well, now, Chummie," her pet name with him from 
 childhood, for they had grown up together like a sister 
 and brother, "I must be stirring around lively." 
 And he rose and she stood beside him and put her 
 hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "Do take care of yourself, Phil, you re such a rash 
 boy. Auntie would be crazy with anxiety if she knew 
 you were going on such a dangerous trip." 
 
 "Well, mother doesn t know, and see that you don t 
 J ///( write her about it till I come back. Now kiss me 
 good-bye, Chummie, and I ll bring you a Pah-Ute 
 scalp to hang on your lodge pole." 
 
 "You bring back your own scalp," she said, with a 
 ^playful tweak of his waving forelock as she kissed 
 him, and he turned away. 
 
 El Estranjero was too far distant to hear the words 
 
PHILIP 65 
 
 or see the expression upon the two faces. What he 
 did see was the leaning forward of the graceful body 
 of the woman he loved toward the handsome Philip, 
 and the touching of their lips in that farewell kiss. 
 
 Unseen by either, he made his way into the house 
 from the opposite side, secured his gun and canteen, 
 and with a heart pulsing with pain that whitened his 
 face to the very lips, joined Juan, who, with two pack 
 horses laden with the rations of the little party, waited 
 for him at the Plaza. 
 
 Behind him he heard Philip call, but he did not 
 ^turn his head. Thinking he had not made himself 
 "Ji| heard, Philip sprinted to walk by his side, but as 
 El Estranjero was never loquacious and Philip was 
 ever talkative, he did not notice that his companion 
 was unusually abstracted. 
 
 As they strode along, El Estranjero took a mental 
 inventory of Philip. 
 
 "Yes," he said to himself, "he is a handsome lad, 
 and a frank and honorable one. He has wealth, edu 
 cation, youth, and I lack all these. He is her own 
 cousin, but cousins often marry very happily. She 
 has chosen him, that is enough for me. I will be man 
 enough to bear it, and I will watch over him as though 
 he were my brother. I will give my life if need be for 
 him. She shall be happy." 
 
 Yet even these generous resolves did not serve to 
 allay his anguish. He loved and was unloved. His 
 heart, for the first time of which he was 
 
66 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 had sent out its call to a mate, and must brood forever 
 above an empty nest. 
 
 "Francesca was wrong," he thought. "Sefiorita, 
 little white dove, there is sorrow, but it is for the 
 stranger, and he thanks God he can bear it if only you 
 are happy/ 
 
 And Alice from her chamber window saw the 
 green orchard swallow up the forms of the two men. 
 
 "He is gone, and without a word for me. It was 
 the moonlight, and the song of the mocking bird, and 
 my deliberate choosing to walk alone with him across 
 the fields that stirred his momentary passion. He is 
 gone to danger, and maybe to death, without one word 
 to me, and I love him. Oh, El Estranjero," her heart 
 cried out in wordless sorrow, "Prince whose very 
 glance awoke my dreaming spirit. Francesca was 
 , there is sorrow for me." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 A WOODLAND DRAMA 
 
 El Estranjero was chosen by his comrades to com 
 mand the expedition, and two hours before noon the 
 start was made. The trail taken by the savages in 
 their retreat was found to lead in the direction of 
 Lytle Creek. Together the whole party followed the 
 trail to a beautiful spot on the banks of the stream 
 and there halted for a council. 
 
 El Estranjero then made known his plan. He and 
 Juan would scout far ahead of the party along the 
 main trail. Philip and another would act as rear 
 guard, to prevent surprise from that quarter in case 
 stragglers from the main band should themselves be 
 scouts. The other six men were to guard the 
 ammunition and rations and to be alert to attack if 
 a foe should be encountered. 
 
 This little force of white men seems ridiculously 
 small when compared to the large band of Indians" 
 they were pursuing. But it must be remembered 
 the enemy was poorly equipped with arms, and that 1 
 their marksmanship was even poorer than their equip 
 ment, except, of course, with their own weapon, the 
 bow, and that was a toy that could only wound at 
 close range. The guns possessed by the savages 
 were of such antiquated pattern and inferior range, 
 and the skilled sharpshooters in this little party felt 
 
 [67] 
 
68 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 that it would be accidental if any one should be 
 brought down by them. 
 
 The Indians were also much encumbered by their 
 wounded, and it was Estranjero s purpose to come up 
 with them in flank and then the marksmen could pick 
 them off one by one in that bush warfare for which 
 they were so justly celebrated. 
 
 As he and Juan were to proceed with so much more 
 rapidity than the main body, a camping spot familiar 
 to all was agreed upon and they set forth. As they 
 crept rapidly forward, noting every "sign" by the 
 way, his mind settled into a mood of stern endurance 
 for whatever fate might have in store for him. As 
 he had no past, he now seemed to have no future with 
 any promise of joy. The present with its duty must 
 therefore absorb him. 
 
 About an hour after midday, he and Juan came to a 
 point on the trail, at the left of which was a steep 
 knoll, unencumbered with brush, which gave a wide 
 outlook over the surrounding country. 
 
 "Senor," said the Indian in a low voice, "I will 
 creep up to that ridge yonder and lying behind that 
 big rock will see what I can. Perhaps the Utes are 
 now so far in the mountains that they think it safe to 
 make camp fire." 
 
 "Go," answered El Estranjero, "I will wait for you 
 over here." 
 
 Crouching so that his head might not be above the 
 underbrush, Juan began the ascent. Scarcely had he 
 roceeded a hundred feet from their cover before 
 
A WOODLAND DKAMA 
 
 69 
 
 Estranjero heard the sharp twang of a bowstring, 
 and saw Juan clap his hand to his shoulder and 
 spring behind a boulder. In an instant, locating the 
 foe by the sound of the bowstring, Estranjero sprang 
 upon him with clubbed rifle and struck him to the 
 earth before he could fire another arrow or make an 
 outcry. 
 
 Juan swiftly crept back to where he stood looking 
 down upon the unconscious enemy, and with a stroke 
 of his knife despatched him. 
 
 They made a quick and careful examination of the 
 brush to assure themselves that there were no more 
 Indians near and then proceeded with even greater 
 caution, that they might not stumble over some stray 
 buck out hunting for venison for the band. 
 
 While an examination of Juan s wounded shoulder 
 showed that his hurt was not serious, he nevertheless 
 lost such a quantity of blood before Estranjero could 
 fashion a rude bandage for him from his neckerchief, 
 that in a few minutes it became apparent that the 
 Indian must rest quietly for a while until he had 
 recovered his strength. 
 
 Estranjero then determined to place him at a point 
 near the trail over which the main body should pass, 
 
 that he might rejoin them as they came along, and 
 he proceeded upon his scout. 
 
 Juan had lain in the brush about half an hour and 
 had dropped into a doze when he was awakened by a 
 low snarling and growling less than a hundred feet 
 y As the wind was blowing from that quarter 
 
70 
 
 EL ESTRANJEEO 
 
 and the animal, whatever it was, would not be likely 
 to get his scent, the Indian cautiously wriggled to a 
 place where he could see what was transpiring. 
 
 The body of a deer, with an arrow sticking over its 
 heart, showing that it had been wounded, probably by 
 the Indian he had killed, and had run thus far before 
 bleeding to death, lay at the edge of a precipice. A 
 huge mountain lion, whose every muscle stood out 
 rigidly against his tawny hide, was rapidly devouring 
 the carcass. Toward the lion ambled a big black bear, 
 snarling as if to announce that he was determined 
 to partake of the banquet. The lion, without ceasing 
 from its gorging, snarled a dissent. The bear, with a 
 terrific roar, sprang upon the carcass, cuffing the lion 
 with both fore paws alternately, while he hung to the 
 venison with his strong jaws. 
 
 The paws of the lion with their long fearsome 
 claws and frightful strength were used with but little 
 effect as the two great animals pulled at the carcass. 
 Soon they were rolling over and over, snarling and 
 growling in a cloud of dust. 
 
 While the fight was at its height two coyotes 
 sneaked out of the brush, ran back and forth, 
 occasionally putting their heads together, as if to 
 comment upon the spectacle, and watched the combat 
 with the greatest interest, taking care, however, 
 f to keep at a sufficient distance from it not to be 
 involved. 
 
 Suddenly the bear disengaged himself from the 
 lion and sat up on his hind quarters. The lion, which 
 
 ^8 
 
 5r*-^vsw-v H.V.V.OV ^Swyj^: ,:^.. %.,-, .^JP^--^ .. , ,/, ^..*& y .^ 
 
 ^^^^^ :^K 
 
Toward the lion ambled a big black bear." Page 70 
 
A WOODLAND DEAMA 
 
 71 
 
 was between him and the precipice, crouched to 
 spring. Quicker than a flash the bear flung his huge 
 bulk forward. They met in midair, clinched, and 
 snarling and growling, rolled off the edge of the 
 precipice and fell to their death. 
 
 The two coyotes set up a short, sharp yelp, and 
 with teeth grinning and tongues lolling out as though 
 in demoniac mirth over the result of the combat, 
 seized upon the venison, which had been torn in two 
 pieces in the fight, loped away and disappeared from 
 view in the brush. 
 
 The silent Indian watched this forest drama with 
 the utmost delight, and when the coyotes trotted off 
 with the spoil, he chuckled softly. Cautiously 
 creeping to the point where the lion and the bear 
 had vanished, he peered over. The chasm that yawned 
 beneath was fully fifteen hundred feet in depth, almost 
 a sheer drop, so the fate of the combatants was certain. 
 
 It was fully two hours later than Estranjero had 
 calculated they would appear, when the main body 
 came up. They had followed the trail of the wander 
 ing hunter, thinking perhaps other Indians might be 
 concealed in the brush, and when they came upon the 
 body of the dead savage, were full of apprehension 
 for the safety of their two comrades. Their anxiety 
 was now relieved and they again took up the trail, 
 but night came on and they were still several miles 
 from the place of rendezvous. They worked their 
 way up the creek, across Cajon Pass in the direction 
 of Bear Valley and, thinking that El Estranjero % 
 
EL ESTBANJEKO 
 
 would take the back trail when he found they did not 
 appear, they bivouacked for the night in a place where 
 the pine needles lay thick under the trees, and were 
 soon sleeping the deep sleep of fatigue. 
 
 .. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE 
 
 It was almost dark when El Estranjero arrived at 
 the rendezvous agreed upon in the morning and threw 
 himself at the foot of a rock to wait for the coming 
 of the rest of the party. As the shadows grew deeper 
 he determined to make camp. The spot was one he 
 had often visited before. It was in a sort of a cove, 
 under a hill, sheltered on three sides by boulders but 
 open to the sky. Here a camp fire could be made 
 whose glow would be hidden from prowling foes, 
 and as the wind began to blow with the penetrating 
 chill of the mountain night air, El Estranjero piled 
 up small sticks that would soon burn into coals, 
 heaped some little boulders in front of them that they 
 might be heated through, and made a fire. 
 
 He at length became convinced that the party was 
 unable to make the camping spot, but feeling certain 
 of the safety of his comrades and thankful for the 
 solitude in which he could battle with his own dis 
 turbing thoughts, he leaned his rifle against the side 
 of the rocky chamber, took some jerky from his pouch 
 which he broiled over the coals. This, with a 
 draught from his canteen, furnished him with the 
 first food he had eaten that day. 
 
 With his knapsack for a pillow and his feet toward 
 the stones warmed by the fire, he lay looking up at 
 
 
 
74 
 
 EL ESTBANJERO 
 
 
 the stars. Pure and calm they twinkled in the blue 
 depths of the night sky, and some ray from them 
 seemed to shine upon the darkness of his despairing 
 thoughts. The mysterious woodland sounds, the soft 
 sighing of the night wind, the insistent cry of an owl, 
 the faint stirring of the restless wood creatures 
 soothed and lulled him. The bosom of the earth was 
 that of the only mother he knew, and he felt a strange 
 kinship with the wilderness, like one who, buffeted 
 and weary, had come back at last to rest among his 
 
 i. own people. 
 
 Here in the woods there was only the savage love 
 that knows no denial. Here was the power of the 
 strong, the survival of the fittest. "What," he mused, 
 "has civilization given to man that is worth its primal 
 struggle and bloodshed?" 
 
 As if for answer, he had a vision of a room warm 
 with fire light and lamp light. The pictured walls, 
 the full book-shelves, open piano in the corner with 
 
 _ music upon the rack invited to peaceful rest, and, yes, 
 
 there in a low chair gazing with pensive eyes into the 
 blaze, was a sweet-faced, golden-haired woman. This 
 morning her lips had been pressed against those of 
 Philip, it was of Philip she was thinking now. 
 
 Estranjero folded his arms across his breast as if 
 to still its throbbing. "Ah, fool!" he said savagely 
 
 Pto himself. "You asked the question, your heart gave 
 
 the answer. Civilization has given us that. The 
 sheltered home, the love that can forgive and can 
 renounce. Aye, the love that can outlast brute passion, 
 
 ! 
 
A NAEEOW ESCAPE 
 
 75 
 
 and that is at the root of all the comfort, the beauty, 
 the refinement that makes real life." 
 
 He had not slept for two nights, and the exertions 
 of the day burdened him with a death-like fatigue. 
 Soon the heavy eyes closed and he slumbered. 
 
 It was at the first streak of dawn that he stirred in 
 his sleep. The birds were singing, and but half awake 
 he thought himself again on the veranda with Alice, 
 and that the mocking bird was trilling in the rosebush. 
 , But there was a snuffing from somewhere. "Down, , 
 > Pio," he said, dreaming of one of the hounds. The 
 g sound of his own voice awakened him and he sat up. 
 As he did so a bear-cub on the opposite side of the 
 enclosure, whose sniffing at the butt of his rifle had 
 been the sound that he connected in his dream with 
 Pio, the hound, whined with terror. It appeared to be 
 injured, had probably tumbled off the hill into the 
 enclosure. 
 
 Estranjero rose to his feet, but before he could 
 move, the she-bear answered the cub s call with a 
 ;: : roar and dashed forward between him and the rifle. 
 One quick glance around showed El Estranjero a 
 dangling vine growing from the boulder just above 
 his head. He seized it, scrambled over the rocky wall, 
 and ran for cover toward the eastern side of the 
 mountain. Here there was a steep slope, the relic of 
 an old landslide, an abrupt descent of sand and gravel. 
 The bear was lumbering behind him, and he 
 plunged down this slope, the bear clumsily and with 
 some caution, keeping up the chase. A tall 
 
76 
 
 EL ESTEANJEKO 
 
 
 the mouth of the ravine offered him a temporary 
 safety, and he scaled it and stood with every muscle 
 tense and every sense alert. 
 
 The hear sniffed for a moment around the bole of 
 the tree, and then proceeded also to ascend. As the 
 bear approached him, El Estranjero climbed higher 
 among the branches. His quick eye had selected a 
 spot for a foothold, where he could have his arms free 
 and his back braced. Attaining this place, he loosened 
 his hatchet and hunting knife, and with a weapon in 
 each hand, awaited the onslaught. 
 
 It came swiftly. Clinging to the tree, the bear 
 made a vicious stroke with her paw, and the claws 
 ripped open his shoe, and tore the flesh of his foot. 
 Leaning across a branch close to the body of the tree 
 Estranjero struck first with his hatchet and then with 
 
 ? his knife. 
 
 The bear parried the blows, snarling and growling. 
 
 | Estranjero then made a feint with the dagger in his 
 left hand, and as the bear struck at it, he aimed a 
 ferocious blow of the hatchet at the animal. It fell 
 
 , short, cutting a deep gash in the paw, which caused the 
 blood to spurt over the bear s head and body and to 
 
 i enrage it to a point of fury when all caution was 
 abandoned. With an awful roar it made a spring for 
 the limb upon which Estranjero s feet rested. At 
 
 f! that instant he dropped his knife, and with a spring 
 seized with his left hand the branch above his head, 
 
 " swinging himself free and just behind the assailant. 
 Again and again he struck the bear upon the head 
 
 
Aimed a ferocious blow of the hatchet at the animal." Page 76 
 
A NARROW ESCAPE 
 
 77 
 
 with the hatchet, and before the startled brute could 
 defend itself, it tumbled to the ground with its skull 
 cleft. 
 
 All this time the blood was flowing freely from 
 El Estranjero s wounded foot, and as the bear fell, he 
 also dropped to the ground and lay there insensible. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 IN TOUCH WITH THE ENEMY 
 
 The pain of Juan s wound made him restless. He 
 tossed and turned upon the ground vainly seeking 
 sleep, and at last sat up with his arms about his knees 
 to await the dawn. Near him Philip slept the sleep 
 of healthy youth. They had chosen to lie a little 
 apart from the others, and finally, while the sky 
 was still the deep velvet purple of the night and the 
 morning star shone clearly over them, Juan laid his 
 hand upon Philip s shoulder. 
 
 He was wide awake in an instant and on the alert. 
 "What is it, Juan?" he whispered. 
 
 "Sefior," answered Juan, "Indian is like a good 
 hound. He know things he cannot tell and cannot 
 tell how he knows them. Senor El Estranjero did not 
 come back. I go to find him. He need Juan." 
 
 "Then I will go too," said Philip. "Here, I will 
 lay a stick where we have been, with two others to 
 make an arrowhead pointing the way we have gone. 
 When the others awaken and see them I think they will 
 understand." 
 
 Softly they made their preparations and stole out 
 of camp. It was light enough for Juan to see his way, 
 and growing lighter every moment. On they went, 
 swiftly and softly, for two hours. 
 
 dawn had come, and they had now reached the 
 [78] 
 
IN TOUCH WITH THE ENEMY 79 
 
 camping spot indicated by El Estranjero as their ren 
 dezvous for the preceding night. They found there 
 the ashes of a dead fire, Estranjero s rifle leaning 
 against a great boulder, his knapsack on the ground, 
 still bearing the imprint where his head had lain upon 
 it, and all about the huge tracks of a bear and the 
 smaller footprints of a cub. 
 
 "My God !" cried Philip. "Look, Juan !" 
 
 Juan, the clever trailer, had taken in the whole 
 camp at a glance and had also noticed the dangling 
 vine and the moss and lichen recently scraped from 
 the side of the boulder. "See, Sefior, he went over 
 the rock. Quick, let us follow. This is a hot trail." 
 
 Around the boulder they fairly flew, and sure 
 enough, the footprints of a man and those of a bear 
 were plainly marked in the soft dust. 
 
 Quick as a trained setter dog, Juan picked up the 
 trail and followed it unerringly to the top of the slide. 
 Arrived there, a fearful growling and snarling at the 
 bottom hastened their steps. 
 
 Half rolling, half running down the incline, they 
 arrived at the foot of the tree just as the bear, his head 
 cleft by El Estranjero s hatchet, dropped, and 
 the next instant Estranjero himself fell insensible at 
 their feet. 
 
 Upon one side from the waist downward he was 
 covered with blood, and Juan threw himself upon him 
 with a low guttural groan and with his hunting knife 
 began to cut away the clothing to find his wound. 
 
 To the surprise of the rescuers, he was uninjured. 
 
 
80 
 
 EL ESTKANJEKO 
 
 except for the deep scratches made by the bear s claws 
 upon his foot, and was merely stunned by the fall and 
 faint from the loss of blood. 
 
 He soon recovered consciousness, sat up and looked 
 about him, and was able to relate what had happened. 
 Juan dressed the wounded foot with great tenderness 
 and skill, entirely forgetting his own wound, and the 
 three made their way back to the boulder camp, taking 
 with them some steaks cut from the dead bear for 
 their breakfast and future provision for the scouting 
 party. El Seiior s wound was not serious enough to 
 prevent his traveling, although with some pain and 
 discomfort, of which he said nothing; but he was 
 somewhat shaken by the experience of the morning, 
 and sat apart as Philip and Juan broiled the steaks for 
 their breakfast. 
 
 His eyes followed Philip as he busied himself about 
 the fire. He noted the grace of his movements, the 
 sparkle in his dark eyes, the manner in which his hair 
 fa waved about his face, and thought him a gallant 
 figure, able to win the love of any woman. Brave, 
 yet gentle, with high spirits, iron nerve and a loyal 
 soul, surely Alice had chosen well. 
 
 As for himself, he was a man without a name, and 
 without a dollar in the world, for the idea of money for 
 his services at the Holcomb ranch never entered his 
 thoughts, and knowing it would be likely to offend 
 him, had never been mentioned by his benefactor. 
 His friend had always been alert to his slightest need 
 of clothing, arms, tobacco, all that was essential, 
 
IN TOUCH WITH THE ENEMY 81 
 
 and beyond that El Estranjero had never before 
 thought. 
 
 Now, however, his mind awoke to the fact that he 
 had nothing to offer Alice but a love that was willing 
 to serve her to the death, yes, and beyond death. But 
 with Philip by her side, endowed as he was with all 
 the good gifts of person and estate that would make 
 her happy, his love would be turned back upon itself to 
 torture him. 
 
 Yet a man must do a man s part. He must not 
 yield to grief, disappointment or pain, and so he 
 smiled wanly over Philip s merry quips as he broiled 
 the bear steak, and took his breakfast at his hands, 
 though he ate little and spoke not at all. 
 
 The rest of the party appeared before the sun was 
 well arisen, and the forward movement was resumed, 
 El Estranjero and Juan in the lead as the day before, 
 making nothing of their wounds, though Juan s 
 shoulder was sore and stiff, and El Seiior limped with 
 every step. 
 
 To-day the little party traveled in couples, at some 
 distance apart. A little beyond the boulder camp the 
 trail branched in three directions and it was evident 
 that the Indian band had divided here into three 
 bands, probably the better to provide for their needs 
 as in this way they would be able to secure more game. 
 Each couple of scouts, therefore, had his work apart 
 from the others, four being left on the main trail as a 
 guard to the pack horses. 
 
 Philip, as the day before, acted as rear guard 
 
 ^~ 
 
82 
 
 EL ESTBANJEKO 
 
 perfect knowledge of the mountains standing him in 
 good stead in making wide detours to search for signs. 
 
 No schoolboy at a match game of football could 
 enjoy the sport more than Philip did this expedition. 
 To him it was a part of the "thrilling" process of which 
 he had spoken to Alice, and he would have thought 
 it the greatest of misfortunes had the attack upon 
 the pueblo, and the pursuit of the Indians occurred 
 before he had arrived at Elevado. Scores of times he 
 congratulated himself upon his good luck in actually 
 participating in this phase of western life, of which 
 he had so often read. 
 
 Late in the afternoon he heard, far to the left of 
 him, where one branch of the trail made a bend, the 
 report of a gun, followed by a rifle shot, and at inter 
 vals another and another. He started instantly at a 
 free run toward the sound. 
 
 A few minutes masterly sprinting brought him to 
 the top of a rise, and looking downward into a little 
 clearing, he saw two of the party of scouts, back to 
 , back and partially sheltered by a boulder, surrounded 
 at a little distance by ten Indians. 
 
 Throwing himself on the ground behind a log, 
 Philip opened a well-directed fire. 
 
 Disconcerted by this unseen enemy, the Indians 
 exposed themselves to the range of the scouts. A lively 
 fusillade of arrows and bullets was directed toward 
 / his cover, but the two white men standing together 
 v now broke for the brush, and from it kept up such a 
 deadly fire, that, united to Philip s execution, it soon 
 
 < 
 
Philip opened a well-directed fire." Page 82 
 
IN TOUCH WITH THE ENEMY 83 
 
 caused the Indians to give up the fight and wildly flee, 
 leaving four dead and one mortally wounded in the 
 clearing. 
 
 It was some time before Philip ventured from his 
 place of concealment, and keeping under cover, crept 
 to the boulder where he had first seen the scouts at 
 bay. 
 
 He could not tell whether they were still near 
 there, or whether they had been killed in the fight. 
 Suddenly, as he wondered how these perplexing doubts 
 would be resolved, a few bars of "La Golandrina" 
 were whistled very softly by some one in the brush 
 ahead of him. A little to the right, another whistler 
 cautiously added the next few notes. Philip softly 
 whistled the whole strain, and before he had ended 
 the two scouts, both unhurt, crept to his cover, and 
 carefully and as quietly as the creatures of the wood 
 steal through their coverts, the three stole from the 
 dangerous neighborhood, all keeping close together, 
 noting every sound, and speaking only in whispers. 
 
 It was dark when, they reached the camping place 
 agreed upon before the party set out in the morning, 
 and El Estranjero was much relieved when the young 
 man appeared, and casting down his knapsack settled 
 himself by the camp fire and said, "Here, boys, give 
 me bear meat for two men, for I have missed one 
 meal to-day, and must eat twice right now. 3 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE CAPTIVE 
 
 In a little secluded valley between two lofty moun 
 tains, the Pah-Utes had made their camp. They had 
 traveled fast after their raid upon the pueblo, and the 
 three divisions of the band were now united. Their 
 scouts and runners had no knowledge of the fate that 
 hung upon the rear in the shape of the sharpshooters 
 and scouts whose adventures we have been relating. 
 The delay of almost twelve hours between the raid 
 and the setting out of the white men had served its 
 purpose of convincing the Indians that the whites 
 intended no pursuit, and would content themselves 
 with defending the valley. 
 
 With so much care had El Estranjero planned the 
 chase, and with so much skill had it been conducted, 
 that the Indians had been entirely deceived and, now 
 apparently safe, they determined to camp. Their 
 scouts were called in and now in the late afternoon the 
 hunters were out for venison and the warriors were 
 resting in the shade. 
 
 All day Juan and Philip had kept close behind the 
 enemy, skulking in the brush far enough in the rear 
 to follow their every movement. Now that the camp 
 was made they lay a half mile to the south of the spot 
 in the thick brush, overlooking a mountain stream 
 
 [84] 
 
THE CAPTIVE 
 
 85 
 
 that just below them broadened into a deep and quiet 
 pool. 
 
 It was sunset and the nesting birds were fluttering 
 to their rest, and the woodland creatures were undis 
 turbed by the two concealed men who lay as quiet as 
 though they were fallen tree trunks. 
 
 Finally Juan touched his companion with his foot 
 and pointed downward. A squaw stood by the pool 
 not twenty feet away. Instead of the square, shape 
 less figure characteristic of most of these Pah-Ute 
 women, this squaw, who was very young, apparently 
 about seventeen, was slight and lithe, and the pose 
 of her slender figure had such an airy grace that 
 Philip involuntarily raised himself upon his elbow, 
 the better to observe her. 
 
 Her dress consisted of moccasins and leggins, a 
 short skirt and loose tunic, all of well-tanned deer 
 skin. About her neck was a chain made of the red 
 seed buds of the wild rose, and the cincture wound 
 about her forehead, under which her hair fell in two 
 long braids almost to her waist, held an eagle s 
 feather. Twined in the braids of her hair were chains 
 of the same red seed buds. 
 
 Her dress was that of a favorite wife or daughter 
 of a chief, and her bearing that of a princess of the,* 
 wild. As the hidden watchers observed her, it became 
 apparent that she was preparing to refresh herself 
 by removing the dust of the long days and nights of-5 
 swift travel. She drew off her moccasins and leggins, i 
 and to the great astonishment of the men in the 
 
 
86 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 bushes, they saw that her slender, shapely limbs were 
 as white as snow. 
 
 Her complexion, bronzed by wind and sun, was as 
 dark as that of any other Indian girl, but looking 
 closely at her face, upturned toward the evening light, 
 Philip now saw that her features were regular and 
 delicately formed, her eyes a clear blue, and her 
 curling hair a dark brown, verging upon black. 
 
 "She is white," his lips framed, as he looked at 
 Juan. "Yes, Senor," Juan replied in the same way, 
 with a gesture warning silence. 
 
 The Indian girl laved her feet, hands and face in 
 the cool, clear water, then replaced her moccasins and 
 leggins, and crooning contentedly to herself, gathered 
 up her tunic with her hand, forming a sort of bag, and, 
 holding it thus, she garnered a quantity of the acorns 
 lying everywhere beneath the trees, and disappeared 
 in the direction of the camp. 
 
 "Sh,e cannot be a prisoner," Philip whispered to 
 Juan, when she was out of sight, "for she comes and 
 goes as she pleases, and acts as though she were one 
 of them." 
 
 "Senor," replied the Indian, "she may have been 
 long among them, and surely belongs to a chief. He 
 must set much store by her, or he would never have 
 brought her out with a war party." 
 
 "We must see," Philip declared. "I ll never go out 
 of these woods and leave a white girl with those 
 beasts. I don t. care who she is, we must get her away 
 from them. She stands a chance of getting killed by 
 
THE CAPTIVE 87 
 
 some of our men. Jove, she s a lovely creature, the 
 only handsome Indian squaw I ever saw, and she s a 
 white woman." 
 
 A whispered consultation determined the two men 
 to wait until they could see the smoke of the camp 
 fire, which would indicate the return of the hunters, 
 and then Philip would lie concealed on the top of the 
 hill, where he could watch the movements of the 
 Indians, while Juan was to wriggle through the brush 
 to a point where he could both see and hear what went 
 on about the fire. 
 
 Juan spoke and understood the Pah-Ute dialect 
 and he surmised that on this night the Indians would 
 council and determine what should be done. He was<S 
 resolved to hear their plans and to carry them back to 
 El Estranjero. 
 
 The girl moved freely about the camp, busying 
 herself about the cooking fire. With a smooth stone 
 she pounded her acorns in the hollow of a rock, and 
 into a hole in the ground, rolled a stone which she 
 heated at the fire. Upon the flat, hot surface of this 
 she placed the cakes of acorn bread, covered them 
 with grass and leaves, and with earth to hold the 
 heat, and left them to bake. 
 
 The hunters brought in a fine buck, which they cut 
 up into rations, which were equally divided, and soon 
 several small fires were going, over which the venison 
 was being charred at the ends of sharpened sticks 
 held over the coals. 
 
 After the Indians had satisfied their hunger, Juan i 
 
 
 
88 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 counted forty braves assembled round the council 
 fire. He wriggled himself quietly through the brush 
 and crept into the shadow of a great boulder about 
 twenty feet from the circle and out of the light of the 
 fire, where he could hear all that was said. 
 
 At first the Indians sat silent and sullen, the chief 
 with down-dropped chin and eyes fixed upon the blaze. 
 
 First one and then another brave arose and spoke 
 of the hardships of the past few days, the failure of 
 the raid, the death of some friend or brother, and 
 finally one gigantic brave, encouraged by the sullen 
 looks cast at the silent chief, openly blamed him with 
 the failure of the expedition and pointedly asked him 
 how he would dare to face the old men and squaws of 
 the tribe in their far-away home, with only this little 
 remnant of the band that had crossed the mountain 
 with him. 
 
 Finally the chief arose, and with stately dignity 
 answered the criticisms of the braves. He told them 
 that his heart was filled with grief and shame over 
 their losses, but that the Great Spirit was against 
 them, and who could fight the Powers of the Air? 
 
 He said that in a vision he had been warned to 
 
 i 
 
 retreat as fast as possible, but that they would soon 
 be in the region where it was impossible to kill the 
 game. It was equally impossible to hunt widely in these 
 mountains, for the whites would no doubt pursue 
 them and take vengeance. Therefore he counselled 
 a division of the band as before in three parts. 
 
 Ten of the bravest, with the gallant Thunder-face, 
 
THE CAPTIVE 89 
 
 indicating the tall savage who had last spoken, should 
 go to the valley and drive such cattle of the settlers 
 as they might find feeding there, to the head of the 
 Pass, and those would supply them with beef for the 
 journey. All were then to meet again at a certain spot 
 on the banks of the Mojave. He and a division of 
 ten braves were to make as much haste as possible to 
 the rendezvous, where the first ten with the stolen cattle 
 were to meet them. The second band of twenty, 
 including those who, on account of wounds, could only 
 travel slowly, were to kill what game they safely could 
 and meet the others there also. 
 
 Juan, when this plan was agreed upon, slipped 
 quietly away to the hilltop where Philip lay, and the 
 two with such haste as the most extreme caution 
 would permit, made their way back to the trail, and 
 traveling all night arrived at their own camp with 
 this most important information, just at daybreak. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 FRANCESCA S SECRET 
 
 The days so full of adventure to El Estranjero and 
 Philip, dragged heavily by with Alice. She had 
 come suddenly into her woman s heritage of love and 
 suffering, and her whole life seemed thrown into hope 
 less confusion. Her books and music, her rides over 
 the brown meadows and into the near-by canons no 
 longer held interest for her. Her household duties 
 were performed so mechanically that she was hardly 
 conscious of them. 
 
 She was restless and listless by turns, but always 
 r there was the consciousness of emptiness and dissatis 
 faction almost too overpowering to be borne. She 
 thought often of the strange actions of Francesca and 
 remembered her agitation on the night, so long ago, 
 when El Estranjero gave his first sign of conscious 
 ness, after days of stupor or delirium. 
 
 One afternoon when Francesca sat upon the ground 
 in the patio, her hands busy with the rushes she was 
 preparing for a basket, Alice came and stood by her 
 side. For some time she watched the old woman s 
 brown fingers nimbly flying in and out as she deftly 
 fashioned the shape of her work. At last she knelt 
 beside her. 
 
 "Francesca," she said, "how long have you served 
 in this house?" 
 
 90] 
 
FKANCESCA S SECRET 
 
 91 
 
 In her childhood Alice had used the Indian dialect 
 with its large sprinkling of corrupted Spanish, as 
 well as she spoke her mother tongue. This was the 
 first time she had used it since her return to her home, 
 and Francesca glanced at her with a gleam of pleasure 
 upon her dark face. Of old, when her fair nursling 
 was bent upon wheedling some dainty from her, or 
 extorting some unusual and forbidden pleasure, she 
 would speak to her in her own tongue. 
 
 Francesca at first made no answer, for she was slow 
 of speech at all times. 
 
 "Come, now, Francesca, we haven t had a good talk 
 for a long time," Alice continued, settling herself 
 upon the ground and toying with the reeds. "How 
 long since you first came to live with us in this house?" 
 
 "It was in the winter before the Senorita was born, 
 that the Senor, her father, came with his young wife y * 
 here," said the Indian woman. "Isidro, my husband,^ 
 and I myself were born on this rancho, long ago 
 before the Gringo came. It was our home. We did 
 not wish to leave it." 
 
 "And all these years have you never been anywhere 
 else but here?" 
 
 "Once," said the old woman, proudly, "the Sefiora, 
 your mother, took me to the pueblo de Los Angeles. 
 You were a baby, I went to tend you." 
 
 "And did you like the pueblo, Francesca?" 
 
 "Non, Senorita, my own home is best for me."-. 
 
 "Francesca," Alice said, as if carelessly, "you were 
 here when El Estranjero first came, were you not?" 
 
92 
 
 EL ESTEANJERO 
 
 The old woman glanced sharply at the girl, but she 
 was humming a tune as she played with the reeds, 
 and seemed to be simply amusing herself with the con 
 versation. 
 
 "I was here, Senorita." 
 
 "And you took care of him when he lay ill, did 
 you not?" 
 
 "Always," replied Francesca, roused from her usual 
 taciturnity. "Vera says she helped. Bah! Vera 
 knows nothing about the sick. It was I and I only who 
 bathed his head when he cried out and talked strange 
 things." 
 
 "Francesca, did he ever speak of anybody or any 
 place in his sickness?" 
 
 "Never, Senorita. Often I listened and tried to 
 understand, but never a word did he say of any place 
 or any person." 
 
 "Francesca," suddenly said Alice, kneeling in front 
 of the old woman and laying her hands upon the 
 brown wrists, "Francesca, tell me, what did you see 
 that night when you cried out and all came running 
 to you. Why did you cry and why did you rock your 
 self and mourn as though one were dead?" 
 
 The Indian woman shuddered, and tried to hide her 
 face upon her arm, but Alice shook her imperiously 
 by the wrists. 
 
 "Francesca, Francesca, you must tell me what I 
 ask." The old woman cast down her eyes sullenly 
 and said nothing. Alice released her wrists and threw 
 her arms about the crone s neck. 
 
FRANCESCA S SECRET 
 
 93 
 
 "There, there, poor Francesca, I have grieved you. 
 You know I love you and I thought you loved me," 
 here her voice became plaintive. "I thought you 
 surely loved me, but your Senorita has been away for 
 so many years that you no longer love her nor wish 
 to speak with her and tell her things that will amuse 
 her as you did when she was a little girl." 
 
 She took her arms away from the unresponsive old 
 woman and dropped dejectedly at her side, the tears 
 shining in her eyes. 
 
 Francesca glanced at her from under her shaggy 
 brows and her stolid face softened into tenderness. 
 She put her arms about the young girl and drew her 
 to her ample bosom, rocking her back and forth as if 
 she were an infant. 
 
 "Ah, my Senorita," she crooned. "My poor little 
 motherless white dove. Francesca loves you better 
 than she loves her own blood, and I will tell you, but 
 it must be between us, a thing never to be spoken of 
 and never to be told another. Not once did I see it," 
 and she ceased her caressing of the young girl, who 
 drew back and watched her curiously, for the gaze of 
 the Indian woman was fixed with horror and her form 
 had suddenly stiffened. "Not once did I see it, but 
 many times since, and always the same. Always it 
 was in the night when El Estranjero slept. Always 
 it was when I was wide awake, so I know it was ngt a 
 dream. Senorita, think you the Great Spirit yet speaks 
 to his children?" 
 
 7 
 
94 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "Oh, yes/ said Alice softly, "I am sure He does 
 to many." 
 
 "But think you the Great Spirit ever places a pic 
 ture before them in the air, a picture where men and 
 women move and speak words that can even be heard?" 
 
 "Perhaps," answered Alice, trembling with eager 
 ness, feeling herself upon the verge of some great 
 mystery. 
 
 "Years have I thought upon this as I sit braiding 
 the baskets in the shade or going about my work. 
 Often have I thought to ask El Senor, but always has 
 something held me back. Senorita, he is gentle and 
 good. Never does he say, Francesca, do you this/ 
 or Francesca, do you that/ but at all times he com 
 mands me without words. Senorita, tell me why is 
 it? Your father have I served for five and twenty 
 years, and yet what he wants he must tell me, for I 
 am but a stupid woman and never think upon it, but 
 El Estranjero " She broke off and sat gazing into 
 the distance. 
 
 "But El Estranjero?" Alice reminded her, speaking 
 the name with a lingering upon the syllables as 
 though she loved it. 
 
 "Ah, yes," resumed Francesca, "but El Estranjero 
 tells me what he wishes without speaking a word. 
 When he is ill, though I be miles away from him I 
 know it, when he is in danger I see it." 
 
 "But he was in no danger that night when you 
 cried so terribly and I and Philip stood by the door 
 looking in. He was lying upon his bed and father 
 
behind the trees and rocks there come Indians." Page 95 
 
FRANCESCA S SECRET 
 
 95 
 
 and all of us were on the veranda just outside his 
 window." 
 
 "Ah, that night," almost whispered the old woman. 
 "It was the first time, and so I feared and cried aloud, 
 but, oh, the many times since that I have seen it." 
 
 "What was it?" Alice inquired gently, trembling 
 now lest the unwonted garrulity of the old woman 
 should fail her. 
 
 "It was night and dark," began the old woman, 
 closing her eyes and clasping her knees, swaying her 
 body gently back and forth as she spoke. It was 
 black night, and there was thunder and there were 
 wagons, many wagons round about a fire. And there 
 was lightning, and it was in the woods upon a lofty 
 mountain." 
 
 She rehearsed the scene as though she were actually 
 seeing it, and as her narrative suddenly changed from 
 the past tense to the present, Alice understood that 
 this stolid Indian woman, whom she knew as wholly 
 practical and unimaginative, was speaking what she 
 believed she was seeing. 
 
 "There is lightning," continued the Indian woman, 
 monotonously, "and now through the woods, hiding 
 behind the trees and rocks, there come Indians." 
 
 "Indians" breathed Alice. 
 
 "Yes, they are Indians, naked, with war paint, 
 
 ^Apaches," and the woman wailed the word, "Apaches, 
 
 for have I not seen them when I was a child ? Was it 
 
 not they who burned the rancheria long ago and 
 
 murdered my kindred? Ah, yes, it is Apaches, and 
 
96 
 
 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 Pah-Utes are there, and with them a white man, 
 and he wears gray clothes, see he is leading them to 
 the wagons !" 
 
 "It is not El Estranjero," cried Alice, with a face 
 white as that of a dead woman. 
 
 "Non, non," cried the Indian. "Now see, there is 
 El Estranjero, over by the fire. See how he springs up 
 as the Apaches give their war cry. He has slept, as 
 have those in the wagons. See, they drag them 
 forth, women and little children and old men. See 
 the Apaches strike them with the hatchet, they scalp 
 them with the knife. Ah, there is a woman and child. 
 El Estranjero has placed them behind him against a 
 tree. He has taken a hatchet from an Apache, he 
 strikes as the brave comes for him. There, he has 
 cut the Apache s head through and he falls. Ah, 
 and another and another." 
 
 Alice listened with every nerve tense, so graphically 
 did the old woman read the picture that in some man 
 ner her mind conjured up. 
 
 "Ah, El Estranjero is down ! Now see the woman. 
 She is beautiful. Her hair is brown and her eyes are 
 v blue. She kneels beside him as a tall Pah-Ute 
 would scalp him. The man in gray has come up. 
 She lifts her hands to him as if she would pray. He 
 is dead/ she says to the man in gray. They shot him 
 %, in the head, he was killed instantly, and oh, you are 
 white, do not let them take his scalp/ The Indian 
 knows the white woman s speech and puts his knife 
 aside, for now it is all over, all are dead but the white 
 
FKANCESCA S SECRET 
 
 97 
 
 woman and the little child that is crying and clinging 
 to her. The Indian looks at her. You were his 
 squaw ? he asks. Oh, my husband, my husband, she 
 says, and weeps, and, Oh, our poor little child, and 
 she takes it to her bosom. The Indian makes a sign 
 to the man in gray, he turns and goes. The Indian 
 makes the woman get up, he binds her hands, he sets 
 the child on his shoulder, they go, and then it is all 
 dark, I see no more." 
 
 Francesca was silent. Her lips, mumbling, gave 
 forth no further sound; she rocked back and forth 
 thus for a few minutes, and while Alice sat staring 
 into nothingness, trying to comprehend the meaning 
 of the strange story she had been told, the old woman 
 softly arose and went away. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE COUNCIL 
 
 The continued absence of Philip and Juan from the 
 rendezvous had now excited El Estranjero s gravest 
 apprehensions, and he was making preparations to 
 go in search of them when they came into camp. 
 The party was now all together, and so far no serious 
 casualty had occurred. After eating their hasty 
 breakfast, they all stood and sat around about the fire, 
 which in the chill of the early morning in the moun 
 tains felt most comfortable, and listened to the tale of 
 the two returned scouts. 
 
 It had seemed to El Estranjero that the Indians 
 must have had some other object than running off the 
 herds about the pueblo or they would never have 
 assembled so formidable a war party to journey across 
 the desert from their Nevada home. 
 
 He questioned Juan closely concerning what he 
 had heard as he lay behind the boulder, and became 
 convinced that the possession of the rich land of the 
 upper San Gabriel valley with its numerous flocks and 
 herds had tempted them. 
 
 Should the Indians return to their own country even 
 with but half the force with which they ventured out, 
 the expedition might be repeated when they had 
 recovered from thedisaster. It was the opinion of 
 
THE COUNCIL 
 
 El Estranjero that this band must be exterminated to 
 the last man. 
 
 He gave this opinion to his comrades. He called 
 to their mind the many raids this same tribe had made 
 upon the whites, the hundreds of sheep, cattle, and 
 horses they had stolen and driven off, the buildings 
 they had burned, and lastly, their attack upon the 
 pueblo, and what horrors might have happened had 
 they not been forewarned. 
 
 No peace could be expected, he said, that would be 
 permanent until the Indians had been given a punish 
 ment so drastic that it would be remembered for all 
 time. 
 
 As El Sefior was little given to making long 
 speeches, his views made a deep impression upon his 
 comrades, and when he had voiced his ideas, the little 
 party, standing at attention around the camp fire, 
 raised their right hands to heaven and solemnly swore 
 not to turn back until the enemy was wiped out. 
 
 One of the pack horses had fallen lame on the pre 
 vious day s march, and it was decided to ease his 
 burden to the other horse, and before the injured ani 
 mal should be unable to travel, to send it back to the 
 pueblo by one of the scouts, who could make faster 
 progress, even riding the lame horse, than he could 
 on foot. 
 
 This man was to travel night and day, abandoning 
 the horse should it become unfit for service, and to 
 carry to Mr. Holcomb and the settlers in the valley the 
 news of the proposed Indian raid at Crafton. 
 
 
100 EL ESTBANJEKO 
 
 This same man was to inform the pueblo of the 
 fact that this chase, being the proverbial "stern chase," 
 was apt to be a long one, and if it was to be effective, 
 they must have provisions, as it was a serious handicap 
 to have to hunt for their meat, and the hunting was 
 attended with great danger, when hostile Indians were 
 so near. 
 
 The conference had lasted for several hours, and 
 the transferring of the pack and starting the returning 
 scout upon his way had consumed more time. As all 
 were foot-sore and the pack horse that henceforth must 
 carry a double load needed rest, it was decided that 
 the remainder of the day should be consumed in a 
 cautious hunt for game, and a short cut taken the 
 following morning that would bring the scouts across 
 the trail of the slower-moving part of the Indian band. 
 It had been decided to deal with that portion of the 
 enemy first to prevent any flank attack upon their own 
 party. By Philip s earnest request, Juan omitted all 
 mention of the white captive they had seen, for Philip 
 desired to communicate this to El Estranjero privately 
 and with him plan her rescue. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 WOODLAND ADVENTURES 
 
 Philip and Juan remained in camp, to make up the 
 sleep they had lost in the night tramp. Sometime in 
 the afternoon, Juan was awakened by the sharp squall 
 of a wild-cat, in a tree near by. He softly reached for 
 his gun and crept under the tree harboring the cat. 
 He manceuvered for some minutes trying to get a 
 position that would give him a good view of the animal 
 for a sure shot, but the branches so intercepted his 
 sight that he had passed several times around the tree 
 before he saw an opening for his aim. 
 
 Stepping back a pace or two to bring the animal 
 into still better view, his gun struck against an over 
 hanging limb from which dangled a hornet s nest, 
 occupied by a very lively family of the insects, which 
 actively resented this intrusion. After a few of them 
 had made Juan feel their resentment, he forgot all 
 about the wild-cat, and with a yell he started for the 
 stream, followed by a cloud of hornets that stimulated 
 his sprinting. Every jump was accompanied by a yell f $-M. \. 
 that made the woods ring, and Philip, roused from his 
 slumber and seeing the nature of the accident, sprang 
 to his feet and made for a place of safety, while! 
 Juan, the air around his head black with hornets, wildly 
 dashed into the stream, cast himself face downward! 
 
 [101] 
 
102 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 in it, and wallowed in the black mud, but not before 
 he had plunged through a nest of polecats lying 
 between two great logs, and their displeasure also was 
 vented upon him. 
 
 It was fully half an hour before Philip dared to 
 return to camp and move the pack and the horse a 
 few hundred feet farther up the stream. A little later 
 Juan, a sorry spectacle, his head and face roughened 
 like a nutmeg grater from the stings, the pain of 
 which, however, had been assuaged by his plunge into 
 the black mud, again presented himself dripping, 
 odorous, and woe-begone in camp. 
 
 Luckily there was a spare shirt and pair of 
 trousers in Philip s pack. Juan donned these, and 
 officiated at the burial of his former garments, and 
 when Philip told the tale at the camp fire that night, 
 he sat by grinning delightedly as that sprightly 
 young gentleman related to the laughing company how 
 Juan had broken the record for high jumping and 
 short sprinting. 
 
 In the gray of the morning of the day after Juan s 
 adventure, the camp was awakened by the restless 
 stamping and snorting of the tethered pack horse. It 
 was so dark in the shadow of the trees that it was at 
 first thought that the savages had discovered the camp 
 and were stealing upon them with the intention of 
 killing or capturing them while they were asleep. 
 
 Instantly every man was on the alert with rifle in 
 hand, ready for any emergency. All crept behind 
 
He now made no attempt to conceal himself." Page 103 
 
WOODLAND ADVENTUEES 103 
 
 trees and logs, away from the dull glow of the camp 
 fire and made ready for the attack. 
 
 They waited for a quarter of an hour in breathless 
 silence, and then a low growl from the store of meat 
 the hunters had brought in the night before convinced 
 them that the disturbance was caused by something 
 other than Indians. 
 
 Philip crawled to where the horse was tethered and 
 soon located the disturbance and learned its cause. The 
 attraction was the venison, and the thief some animal 
 not yet distinguishable, owing to the dark shadows 
 of the trees. 
 
 From where he stood Philip could plainly hear the 
 thief tearing the flesh and crunching the bones of 
 the deer, which had been hung, as all supposed, out 
 of reach of any prowling animal. 
 
 While he could hear the brute he could not, try as 
 he might, catch sight of it. He was satisfied that the 
 animal could both see and hear him, as he now made 
 no attempt to conceal himself, but it was not suffi 
 ciently frightened to abandon an early breakfast, which 
 it seemed to be enjoying with prodigious appetite. 
 
 El Estranjero now came to Philip s side, wondering 
 why the young man had not discharged his rifle. 
 
 "You needn t be so cautious," said he with a laugh. 
 "This varmint is busy with his breakfast, and will pay 
 no attention to you or to any one else until he gets 
 enough. He knows we are here, but will no more 
 give up that meat than a politician will resign an office ; 
 with a fat salary. I think we ll have to say good-bye J 
 
104 EL ESTRANJEKG 
 
 to about one-half of that deer, whicn I very much 
 regret." 
 
 "Isn t it possible for you to get a shot? * questioned 
 Estranjero. 
 
 "No," replied Philip, "I can t see him yet It s 
 growing light, however, and I ll soon have my chance." 
 
 "A lion?" asked El Estranjero. 
 
 "I don t know yet, but I think you ve guessed right." 
 
 "Now," said Philip, a few minutes later. "Now, 
 I can just barely see him, and if I m not mistaken it 
 is a mountain lion, and a big one, too." 
 
 "Be careful," warned Estranjero. "Those animals 
 are very dangerous when wounded." 
 
 The words had hardly been uttered when the crack 
 of Philip s rifle warned Estranjero that his caution 
 had been spoken too late. The lion fell a few feet, 
 caught upon a lower limb of the same tree, and with 
 a snarl bounded straight for Philip, landing fairly 
 on his shoulders, bearing him with terrific force to 
 the ground. 
 
 El Estranjero was aiming almost before Philip 
 struck the earth, and a well-directed shot relaxed the 
 beast s hold as he tumbled off in his death agony, 
 Philip springing up unhurt and seeking a safe place 
 from which he could watch the foe that had brought 
 death so near to him. 
 
 He was very white about the lips when he reached 
 out a trembling hand to Estranjero. 
 
 "See here, old man," he said, in a voice a trifle 
 
WOODLAND ADVENTUEES 
 
 105 
 
 unsteady, "you saved my life. I hope I can do some 
 thing some day to show you I appreciate it." 
 
 "I thank God I could do it," said Estranjero, and 
 as he turned away his heart added the words, "Thank 
 God I was here to save you for her." 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE FIGHT AT CRAFTON 
 
 The rare October day had closed with a sunset 
 gorgeous with color. Alice leaned over the gate that 
 opened into the meadow, with eyes fixed upon the 
 distant mountains. Against the purple where the 
 range melted to the valley, she imagined she saw 
 in another tint. She watched it ; yes it was dust. Some 
 one was riding fast toward the pueblo. 
 
 Her father strolled toward her, smoking his evening 
 pipe, and the two idly watched the approaching rider. 
 It was a quarter of an hour after they first sighted 
 him before it became apparent that he had now struck 
 off from the main road and was riding straight for 
 the place where they stood. 
 
 Alice s prophetic heart gave warning that this man 
 was the bearer of tidings. What were they? Did 
 he come to tell of the death of Philip? Did he come 
 with news of El Estranjero? Was it some one whom 
 Manuel and Marco had met and sent with news? 
 
 All these questions surged through her mind as she 
 stood waiting. Her father had passed through the 
 gate and was striding to meet the rider, who had 
 stopped and dismounted, and with eager gestures was 
 imparting something, his horse standing with rein 
 dropped over his neck, panting by his side. A few 
 words, and then the stranger took his horse s rein, 
 
Were herding the cattle up the mountain." Page 107 
 
THE FIGHT AT CRAFTON 107 
 
 and walking by Holcomb s side, approached the gate, 
 eagerly talking as he came and as eagerly heard. 
 
 When he came near, Alice recognized him as one 
 of the members of the expedition that had now been 
 gone for many days. It was the man El Estranjero 
 had sent back with the lame pack animal. He had left 
 it safe with a cattleman upon the mountain, borrowed 
 a swift horse of him, and warning the settlers as he 
 passed of the impending raid upon Crafton, had now 
 arrived at his journey s end. No time must be lost 
 if the Indians were to be frustrated, and Holcomb 
 bade good-bye to his daughter and rode posthaste to 
 assemble the cowboys. 
 
 The Indians that had been sent to the valley below 
 had gone to the foot of the trail at Cajon Pass, and 
 turning to the east, skirted the foot of the mountains 
 to Highlands, and thence to Crafton. Rounding up a 
 herd of twenty-five steers before the settlers had dis 
 covered their raid, they started to return to the,/a 
 mountain by the trail, the same which to-day is a wide 
 and beautiful road with an easy grade, leading to 
 Bear Valley. 
 
 They had reached the foot of the trail, and just as 
 the first streak of dawn appeared in the sky were 
 heading the cattle up the mountain. For several 
 minutes the cattle had shown signs of uneasiness. 
 Now they stopped, snorted, threw up their heads, and 
 refused to budge another inch. 
 
 Supposing they were frightened by a wild animal, 
 the Indians behind them swung their arms and 
 
108 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 yelled to them, determined to force them past the place 
 quickly. Suddenly from the brush at the side of the 
 trail there rang out the sharp report of a score of rifles, 
 and with it the terrifying yell of as many mounted 
 cowboys, Holcomb riding at their head. With a swirl 
 and a rush the steers turned and were off down the 
 mountain in a stampede that brushed aside or tram 
 pled underfoot the savages, and were soon out of sight 
 in the direction of their pasture at Crafton. 
 
 Before the Indians could recover, the cowboys were 
 upon them, pursuing them hither and thither as they 
 sought shelter in the brush, exterminating every one, 
 not even sparing the wounded. 
 
 This fighting of the Indians was no child s play, 
 and no false sentimentality was shown on the part of 
 the cowboys, a class not much given to sentimentality 
 at any time. 
 
 They did, however, bury the dead across the river 
 at a place known to this day as "Crafton Retreat;" 
 but the burial was not sentiment, either, and there 
 were few of the whites who participated in that fight 
 who did not bear away from the field some weapon 
 or other memento, and keep it among their treasures 
 and bequeath it to their descendants. 
 
 When the burial was over, Holcomb rode again to 
 his home. He knew Alice would be filled with 
 Anxiety for his safety, and he himself was anxious for 
 Further news from El Estranjero s party. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 A TALE OF THE FRONTIER 
 
 It was again evening and Holcomb smoked his 
 pipe, sitting upon his favorite seat on the veranda. 
 Alice was beside him in a low chair, her cheeks flushed 
 with eager interest, her shining eyes upon her father s 
 face. 
 
 "Oh, Daddy," she said, squeezing one of his hands 
 in both of hers, "I wish I were a man like Philip, then 
 I could ride with you and hunt and fight. Daddy, it s 
 a misfortune to be a woman and sit at home while 
 such great things are happening." 
 
 Holcomb looked at her admiringly. "Well, Alice, 
 it surely can t be much of a misfortune to be such a 
 pretty woman as you are! I tell you, my girl, you 
 are nearly as good looking as your mother was at your 
 age." His voice softened as it always did when he 
 spoke of his dead wife, "and you are like her, Alice." 
 
 "But, Daddy, you have heard many a woman wish 
 she was a man, haven t you?" 
 
 "That s a fact, Alice. They begin with that wish 
 when they are little girls and think it a shame that 
 they weren t born boys, so they can race and climb 
 and swim and run like their brothers." 
 
 "Well, Daddy, did you ever hear any boy wish he 
 was a girl, or any man wish he was a woman ?" 
 
110 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 "Can t say that I ever did, daughter. No, I know 
 that I never did." 
 
 Talk, Daddy, tell me some more about the fight." 
 
 "But I have told it to you, Alice, once this morning, 
 when we were at breakfast, and again this evening." 
 
 "You re sure you haven t left out anything?" 
 
 "Not a thing." 
 
 "Then, Daddy, you tell me the story I used to like 
 when I was a little girl, the story about the buffaloes." 
 
 "What a child you are, for a grown woman, Alice." 
 
 "I wish I were a child," said Alice, as her mind 
 reverted to her secret love and disappointment. "I 
 wish I were a freckled-faced, long-legged girl again, 
 Daddy. Pretend I am now, and tell me my story." 
 
 She slipped one of his sturdy arms about her and 
 cuddled close to him like a child, her golden head upon 
 his breast. Sitting thus, while he puffed occasionally 
 at his pipe, Holcomb told her this story. 
 
 "I was traveling through New Mexico, nearly on 
 the line of what was afterward called The Santa Fe 
 Trail/ in the region sometimes called the buffalo hunt/ 
 owing to the numerous herds of bison that annually 
 roamed these plains when the deep snows of the north 
 would drive them to a milder climate, where it was 
 easier for them to get at the grass. 
 
 "By those acquainted with the habits of the buffalo, 
 it is well known that they often winter in regions 
 covered with snow, even to the depth of several feet, 
 not seeming to feel the cold, finding their food by paw 
 ing away the snow to uncover the dried grass beneath. 
 
A TALE OF THE FRONTIEE 111 
 
 "This is not difficult for these hardy animals when 
 the snow falls dry and light during dry winters or 
 winters of continuous cold weather, but when there is 
 a season of alternate heat and cold, and the snow 
 alternately melts and freezes, there is formed a glaze 
 of ice over the surface of the ground, or a crust of 
 snow so thick and hard as to be almost impenetrable, 
 and then the buffalo often wears his hoof to the very 
 quick, digging for grass, leaving a trail of blood on 
 the snow as he travels from point to point. 
 
 "In such seasons the herds would roam about in 
 countless thousands and almost denude the plains of 
 their rich grasses, so when they returned north in the 
 spring they left a country barren and uninviting. 
 
 "It was after one of these winters of alternate 
 freezing and thawing that John Marshall and I were 
 traveling west, as I have said. We had noticed 
 many large bunches of buffalo on every side, when our 
 journey brought us to a very abrupt rise of ground. 
 
 "This butte, or hill, towered up sheer out of the 
 plain, and was so steep that it was somewhat difficult 
 to scale it, but after some reconnoitering we determined 
 to make the top of this hill our camping place, if we 
 could get our horses up the ascent. 
 
 "This, after some trouble, we succeeded in doing, 
 and found a much better camping ground than we had 
 reason to expect, plenty of grass for our horses and 
 some small trees and shrubs for a camping spot. 
 
 "Here we built our fire, cooked our coffee and meat 
 for the meal and turned in for a night s good sound 
 
 
112 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 sleep. Being both young and healthy we slept so 
 soundly that time was annihilated and the sun was 
 shining when we opened our eyes and realized that it 
 was morning. We prepared and ate our breakfast 
 and, while smoking an after-breakfast pipe, sat looking 
 lazily across the plain below, over which we could see 
 for a long distance on every side. 
 
 "Suddenly young Marshall went to his camp outfit 
 and taking out a field glass gazed long and earnestly, 
 then handing it to me, asked me to look in a westerly 
 direction. 
 
 " I can see/ said he, two prairie schooners, three 
 or four men and some women and children who are 
 just getting under way for their western journey. 
 For the life of me I cannot understand how they dare 
 camp out in the open, unprotected from these herds 
 of wild buffaloes. 
 
 "I took the glass and could easily see the camp with 
 all of its outfit, and was about to return the glass when 
 I was attracted by a moving cloud far away to the 
 north, and could just discern a moving mass under 
 this cloud which proved to be dust. I gazed long and 
 earnestly at the mass, trying to note the direction 
 it was taking ; for too well I knew that it was a wild 
 buffalo stampede such as is often mentioned by the old 
 buffalo hunters, and which I had before witnessed on 
 several occasions. Returning the glass to young 
 . Marshall I asked him to look in that direction and tell 
 what he saw. 
 
 "He took the glass and then almost immediately 
 
A TALE OF THE FRONTIER 113 
 
 exclaimed, they are buffaloes in thousands, bearing 
 down directly on that camp. It will be annihilated. 
 
 " Can we help them/ I asked. 
 
 " No, was his reply, the buffaloes will be upon 
 them before we could get half way there, unless they 
 swerve to one side and leave the camp unmolested, 
 which God grant may be the case. 
 
 "From this time on we watched the swiftly moving 
 mass and prayed that they would go to one side of 
 the camp apparently doomed to awful destruction. 
 Up to this time the campers seemingly had not dis 
 covered their danger. This was strange, for at our 
 distance we could hear the awful thundering of the 
 hoofs of the buffaloes and the ominous sound already 
 struck a chill to our hearts that seemed like that of 
 death. 
 
 "Again taking the glass, young Marshall discerned 
 that the campers had seen their peril and were now 
 hurrying desperately to get out of the track of that 
 dreadful mass. 
 
 " Too late, too late, he cried, God help them, no 
 one else can! and throwing himself upon the ground 
 he cried as though his heart would break. 
 
 "I took the glass just in time to see two or three 
 of the leading buffalo bulls darting through the camp 
 between the wagons, and in an instant two or three 
 more, then a bunch knocked down a woman and ran 
 over a child, then a wagon was slewed around and 
 overturned, then thousands of them poured over and 
 through the camp until nothing remained in sight 
 
114 EL ESTRANJEKO 
 
 but one great turbulent, rushing, relentless tide, the 
 impulse of which carried death and destruction and 
 left no sign or trace. 
 
 "Every human being, animal, wagon, all of the 
 clothing, cooking utensils and camp equipment of every 
 nature and description had disappeared so effectually 
 that not a bone, rag, stick, or piece of material could 
 be seen in any direction. 
 
 "After this vast herd had passed, we saddled our 
 horses and proceeded upon our journey across the 
 plain, passing over the ground where the camp had 
 been, but there remained only absolute desolation. 
 Now when I hear any one express a fear that the 
 buffalo will become extinct, it calls to my mind that 
 scene, and banishes from my thoughts any desire to 
 perpetuate that species of animal." 
 
 Holcomb knocked the ashes from his pipe and arose. 
 Alice stood beside him still clinging to his arm. 
 
 "That s a good story, Daddy, and you told it just 
 as you used to." She \vas silent a moment as they 
 stood with arms entwined looking out into the night. 
 Finally she said, half timidly, "Daddy, do you think 
 everything is right with Philip and El Estranjero? 
 Why do they not come back ? They intended to scout 
 only, did they not, to find out what direction the 
 savages had gone, and how many there were? Don t 
 you think they ought to be back by this time?" 
 
 "You re anxious about Philip? Well, my little girl, 
 so am I. If I don t hear from them before this time 
 to-morrow night, I shall go after them. I can take 
 
A TALE OF THE FRONTIER 115 
 
 Jose, and Gardiner, the man who has returned with 
 the pack horse, will go with us." 
 
 "Oh, Daddy, let me go too, I would love to go, and 
 I do hate staying here alone and thinking and 
 worrying." 
 
 "No, Alice, it is not to be thought of," replied 
 Holcomb. 
 
 Alice came to a swift decision. She had always 
 been a headstrong child, and she was now a headstrong 
 woman, and as perfectly fearless as Philip or Juan. 
 She would say no more about going, but would wait 
 till her father was well on his way, and then she 
 would come up with him when he had gone too far 
 either to come back or send her back alone. With 
 this determination in her mind, she kissed her father 
 good night and went to her chamber, where upon her 
 white bed she tossed for half the night, thinking of 
 El Estranjero and praying for his safety. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A DESERT TRAGEDY 
 
 While these events were transpiring, Manuel and 
 Marco with their two horses laden with the empty 
 water casks, had made their way to the little cienega 
 about a mile from the point where the Pah-Ute trail 
 led across the desert to Nevada. 
 
 The two Indians had been on many a prospecting 
 trip in this waste with their master, and knew every 
 landmark as well as did the Pah-Utes themselves. 
 They had rested for a few hours at a point where they 
 could see every object for miles desertward, and where 
 also they could command a view of the point from 
 which their friends would come, although, such good 
 time had they made in their trip, they knew it was 
 more than forty-eight hours too early to expect even 
 the band of Indians who were to come over the 
 mountains. 
 
 As they lay there Manuel saw afar upon the desert 
 a moving black speck. It came nearer and nearer, both 
 Indians watching with the greatest interest. Soon it 
 resolved itself into the shape of a burro, and his mas 
 ter, if he had any, must be walking far behind, for 
 they could not see him. As the burro came nearer, 
 they saw that he was laden with one large water cask 
 and two small ones, and was trailing a tie-rope behind 
 him. 
 
 [116] 
 
The Mojave Desert 
 
A DESERT TRAGEDY 117 
 
 The Indians knew from the actions of the beast that 
 he smdled the water and grass of the cienega, for he 
 broke into a trot as he came nearer, although he was 
 gaunt with starvation. 
 
 They had no trouble in catching the beast as he 
 drank from the little stream that bubbled up in the 
 cienega, and found that the casks it carried were full. 
 
 "Madre De Dios," Manuel said to his companion; 
 "he is a stray from some camp and he carries the 
 water. That means death to his owner. Have we 
 yet time?" 
 
 "The Utes cannot arrive for at least two days," 
 replied Marco, "and our people a half day later. We 
 will take the casks and empty them, fill them with 
 fresh water and turn the burro loose; if the Utes see 
 him, they will think him a stray from some mining 
 camp. Our own casks we will hide in the brush, for 
 there surely can be only two or three men, and we can 
 go only one day s journey to look for them. Water 
 for two days we will take for the horse, for ourselves, 
 and for them." 
 
 "We will take our own casks, also," said Manuel. 
 "For if the Utes should by chance find them,, they 
 would know that here was a rendezvous and they 
 would destroy them,. We will fill them, for who can, 
 say how much we will need, and it is better to have 
 too much than too little water on the desert." 
 
 It took the Indians only a short time to prepare for 
 the start and they had no difficulty in following the 
 trail. It was a clear night, and as long as they could 
 
118 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 see the track they followed, camping at last when they 
 could no longer safely trail, and again upon the way 
 with the first daylight of the next morning, for they 
 knew that it was a case of life and death, which might 
 be decided adversely for one hour s delay. 
 
 The burro, while lank with starvation, had never 
 theless been able to reach the cienega, and they had 
 great hopes of being able to find the camp from which 
 it had strayed in time to save the lives of those who 
 might have been its owners. 
 
 They knew well that a burro can exist almost as 
 long as a camel without a drop of water, so that its 
 presence and condition were no index of how long 
 it might have endured thirst before finding water. 
 
 They hurried along as fast as was possible in the 
 cool of the day, and they hoped to find the camp safe 
 at the first water-hole. Although it was late October, 
 the heat upon the desert was so intense that they were 
 obliged to halt in the middle of the day to rest and 
 feed the horse and refresh themselves. 
 
 They hung a blanket across two cactus bushes and 
 made, a partial shade for themselves and the horse, 
 and scraping away the hot surface, lay down upon the 
 ground and slept for a couple of hours. 
 
 Much revived, they again took up the trail and 
 arrived at the first water-hole late in the afternoon. 
 There they made the discovery that the burro had 
 ed his thirst at the spring, and had been close 
 to it for some time, as the sand was much trampled 
 here, and they found where he had lain. 
 
 ,g| quench( 
 
 . f 
 
A DESERT TRAGEDY 119 
 
 The failure to find any other track but that of the 
 burro was a disappointment to the two Indians, but 
 it inspired them to push on. It was ten o clock at 
 night when they reached the second water-hole, and 
 they waited for the moon to rise, to take up the trail. 
 The wind blew cool, and it was as light as day when 
 the moon finally arose, and by its light the Indians saw 
 that here the burro had caught the dragging rope 
 upon a bush, and by making a wide circuit around the 
 water-hole they saw that he had dragged the shrub 
 round and round the water-hole, evidently thinking 
 he was staked, but when he had at last freed himself 
 from it, had made a bee line for the next spring. 
 Around the trampled circle which he had made were 
 scattered cans of vegetables and other provender which 
 the burro had shaken from his pack and which were 
 spoiled by the action of the sun. 
 
 Still the two Indians could discover no tracks of a 
 man, and now, being convinced that the owners of the 
 burro had lost their stock of food as well as their 
 supply of water by the straying of the animal, they 
 knew their case was desperate, but the moonlight was 
 too uncertain for good trailing, and so they waited for 
 morning to take up the track. 
 
 As soon as it was light enough to follow they struck 
 out, finding the trail of the animal and following it 
 for about five miles. 
 
 Here Manuel s sharp eyes detected, about half a 
 mile to the right, lying upon the sand something that 
 
 was not a dried cactus shrub. It might be the carcas 
 
 I 5gg * 
 
120 EL ESTKANJEKO 
 
 of some dead animal, but the two trailers decided to 
 investigate. 
 
 It was the body of a man, who had been dead for 
 some days. By his side was an empty tin can with 
 which he had attempted to dig a hole in the sand 
 to escape from the burning sun. Following his zig 
 zag trail a mile or two they came upon the body of 
 another. There was now little hope of finding any one 
 else, but there might still be some poor fellow crazed 
 with thirst and hunger, lying under some rock or 
 shrub, and so the patient Indians took up the trail of 
 the two men. They found that one had apparently 
 carried the other, sitting down frequently to rest. 
 Then he had half-dragged him, the weaker stumbling 
 along a few rods, then falling, then up again and on 
 for a few feet, then down and crawling along on his 
 hands and knees. 
 
 The stronger had then gone on alone, and the 
 weaker with his bare hands had dug deep into the 
 sand, wearing his fingers to the bone in the agonized 
 search for water, before he died the terrible death the 
 treacherous desert has in store for the wanderer. 
 
 Satisfied now that the strangers they had come to 
 help were all beyond the reach of succor, the Indians 
 turned back and, moving as swiftly as possible, by 
 noon were again at the second water-hole. 
 
 Resting here for a couple of hours they reached 
 the first water-hole late in the afternoon, and in the 
 cool of the evening made a rapid return to the cienega. 
 They caught the burro and tethered it in a secluded 
 
A DESERT TRAGEDY 
 
 121 
 
 place unlikely to be discovered by any prowling 
 savage, and hiding their own wearied horse in the 
 same manner, they bedded themselves in the brush as 
 comfortably as though they were denizens of the wild. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 IN THE PASS 
 
 Philip and El Estranjero were scouting together. 
 The little party had followed the retreat of the most 
 slowly moving and largest of the savage bands in the 
 direction of Cajon Pass, and it was here that the 
 woodsmen, having disposed their little force to the 
 best advantage, expected to ambush them and thus 
 prevent their joining the chief, who with the body of 
 ten warriors was to wait at the Mojave for the return 
 of his raiders with the beef-steers. 
 
 They were resting after a hard climb over rocks and 
 fallen trees, for it was necessary to take the shortest 
 route to the Pass, if they would intercept the band, 
 who must go by the easier way because of their 
 wounded. 
 
 "El Estranjero," said Philip, "come sit here for a 
 moment, I have something to tell you. We are going 
 into this fight, nobody knows who may be killed. I 
 want to tell you something, so that should anything 
 happen to me you will know." 
 
 Estranjero drew a quick breath and set his teeth 
 shard. "It was a strange freak of Fate," he thought, 
 that Alice s lover should be about to confess to him 
 [his love for the only woman in the world he himself 
 could ever love. He had been obliged to bear many 
 
 [122] 
 
IN THE PASS 123 
 
 hard things of late, but this surely was the hardest. 
 Yet what could he do, Philip was his friend, and 
 friendship too, has its claims. * 
 
 "Philip," he said, looking the young man bravely 
 in the eyes, "you will come out of this unharmed. I 
 will see to it that any danger must first pass me to 
 reach you." 
 
 "I am not afraid," rejoined Philip. "Don t think 
 for a minute that I need any such protection. But 
 accidents are likely to happen, and a woman s safety 
 and happiness depends upon me now." 
 
 El Estranjero gave him a surprised glance. 
 
 "Her safety and happiness, Philip? She is safe 
 with her father, I have no doubt, but her happiness, 
 well, yes, maybe her happiness." 
 
 It was Philip s turn to look surprised. "I don t 
 know whom you have in mind; of course " he began. 
 
 "Was it not Alice of whom you spoke?" queried 
 El Estranjero. 
 
 "Listen," said Philip. "There is a white woman, a 
 prisoner, among those Indians down there, a young 
 girl not over seventeen, and she must be recaptured 
 at all hazards; that is what I mean. She is with the 
 other party, the one that is ahead of this, but we must 
 see to it that every red devil of this bunch gets his 
 dose here, for there must be no warning to that band 
 ahead. There are twenty in this band, we know, four 
 wounded, but able to walk." 
 
 Then Philip told him of the discovery he and Juan 
 had made and his earnest desire to be the one 
 
124 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 should rescue the captive white girl, whose beauty had 
 haunted him every hour since. 
 
 "Ah," breathed Estranjero, with a sigh of relief, 
 when he had finished. "Now I understand you. Here 
 comes Juan with news." 
 
 The Indian came swiftly to the spot where they lay. 
 "El Senor," he said, "they are three miles below us, 
 and traveling slowly. They will go through the Pass, 
 traveling to the northwest upon the desert side, and 
 keeping along the hills to be near water." 
 
 "No, Juan," said El Senor, grimly. "They will not 
 travel along the desert side of the hills for we must 
 exterminate them, every one, before the sun is two 
 hours higher. Get you back, Juan, and carry this 
 order to the others. Let the enemy well into the Pass, 
 thea when you hear me fire, attack and give no 
 quarter." 
 
 Philip and El Estranjero now posted themselves 
 one on either side of the Pass, within good range of 
 the trail, and lay silently watching. Unsuspicious of 
 danger, the Indians at last made their appearance. As 
 they had come so far they evidently believed that after 
 the encounter in which their companions received the 
 wounds, the whites, finding so large a band of the 
 enemy in front of them, had returned to the valley for 
 reinforcements, and before these could arrive they 
 would be well into the desert upon their homeward 
 
 The crack of a rifle in front of them was answered 
 by shots, seemingly from behind every rock, and the 
 
 < 
 
IN THE PASS 125 
 
 Indians broke for cover. They were hotly pursued, 
 and a running fight, lasting for nearly an hour, took 
 place. Two of the white men were wounded, but 
 neither dangerously, and they were sent back to the 
 camp at Spring Rock while the others, their numbers 
 now reduced to seven, pressed on. With the advantage 
 of ground and preparation, they were able to hunt 
 every Indian from his covert, and not till the full count 
 of twenty was made did they desist, knowing there was 
 not one stray Indian left to carry the news to the band 
 in advance. 
 
 It was a fight without mercy, but these savages 
 merited little pity from them, and as even a wounded 
 brave can be a dangerous foe, there was one scout 
 who had a hard enough heart to kill the wounded 
 Indians, holding that it was more merciful to end 
 their sufferings than to leave them to the slow torture 
 of pain and thirst in the wilderness, or to recover to 
 continue their work of pillage and murder. 
 
 As El Estranjero had heard no news from the valley, 
 and was uncertain what had been the outcome of the 
 raid of the Indian band at Crafton, it was decided to 
 push on with the utmost speed to the cienega where 
 they had appointed to meet Marco and Manuel. This f 
 would give them two pack horses with which to fol 
 low the Indians, and two more clever scouts, trailers 
 and good shots, to take part in the campaign. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE PURSUIT 
 
 This little company now pressed rapidly onward, 
 killing by the way venison for their use, and traveling 
 in couples as they had since the beginning, save that 
 now two guarded the pack horse, two traveled in the 
 van and two in the rear, while Juan scouted far ahead 
 like a trained hound, returning to El Estranjero and 
 Philip, who were in the lead, when he had anything 
 to impart to them. 
 
 Crossing the mountains, they skirted the range on 
 the desert side, Juan often near enough to the chiefs 
 band to hear their talk about their camp fire. More 
 than once Philip lay with him in the shelter of a log 
 or boulder and feasted his eyes upon the beauty of 
 the white captive. His thoughts were with her con 
 stantly. The pathos of her position, the tragedy that 
 he knew must soon touch her in some of its phases, 
 her own tender affection for the chief, to whom she 
 | always spoke as father, and the respect with which he 
 treated her, made the elements of a romance that his 
 youthful fancy constructed about her. How came she 
 to be among them? What was her story? 
 
 The Indians felt such security that they kept no 
 guard about their fire, but for several days there was 
 no opportunity to make the attack without injuring 
 the girl. By this time they were within a few miles 
 
THE PURSUIT 
 
 127 
 
 of the rendezvous agreed upon between the party and 
 Manuel and Marco. Estranjero decided that to use 
 this favorable opportunity to attack the savages would 
 make them suspicious and travel with more caution. 
 Fearing that the Indians might discover they were 
 pursued, or that the horse and casks and perhaps 
 Manuel and Marco also might fall into their hands 
 if they learned there were whites in the vicinity, they, 
 therefore, allowed the hostiles to approach their home 
 trail, while they themselves halted and sent Juan 
 forward to locate Manuel and Marco, which he did 
 without difficulty and brought them into camp, their 
 horse and the burro laden with freshly-filled water 
 casks, and both themselves and the animals refreshed 
 and ready for travel. 
 
 The hostiles also halted upon the edge of the desert 
 and traveled with more caution, keeping well under 
 cover, but Juan had no difficulty in following their 
 movements. 
 
 Had he been following Blackfeet, Seminoles, or 
 Wyandottes, or any of the savages east of the Rockies, 
 he would have had more trouble in deciphering the 
 signs. These Indians travel one behind the other, in 
 "Indian file," placing their feet exactly in the foot 
 prints of the marcher ahead of them, and thus being 
 able to deceive the enemy regarding their number 
 as well as to preserve silence in passing through a 
 country where danger might lurk for them in the 
 tangle of thick woods and underbrush. 
 
 This method of travel was not followed by the 
 
128 
 
 EL ESTKANJEKO 
 
 Indians of the Rocky Mountain and desert region, 
 because of the nature of the country, much of which 
 is treeless and their movements could in this country 
 be followed by an enemy from some point of vantage. 
 
 They chose to separate, each man for himself, 
 always keeping in touch, and camping together at 
 night. The chief seemed filled with anxiety concern 
 ing the cattle raiders. The night of the day that they 
 reached the point where the home trail began, there 
 was another council, Juan, skulking in the bushes, 
 being an interested listener. 
 
 It was decided that the chief with the girl and two 
 chosen braves, should travel as fast as possible to the 
 Mojave. That the remaining seven or eight warriors 
 should hunt there and make jerky to bring forward in 
 case the raiding band was unsuccessful, and that after 
 four days should meet the advance party at the ren 
 dezvous. After leaving the hills, it would, of course, 
 be impossible to subsist, but the Indians had gathered 
 acorns and made it into bread, and they had some 
 venison that had been slaughtered on the way. The 
 little party with the girl was amply provisioned, as the 
 hunters were in position to replenish their pouches. 
 
 Philip and Estranjero congratulated themselves that 
 now at last the girl was about to be separated from 
 the main band. Of course, by this time, her presence 
 \ among the Indians was known to the whole party, who 
 were all interested in her safe recapture. 
 
 It was now the time of the full moon, and the chief, 
 soon as the council was over, gathered his little 
 
THE PUKSUIT 129 
 
 party together and started away across the desert. 
 From their places of "concealment El Estranjero and 
 Philip watched them go, and Philip with a sinking 
 heart wondered if by any chance their plans would 
 fail and the girl be lost to him. 
 
 He said in his heart "lost to me" because day by 
 day he had felt his heart warm to her, and his soul go 
 out to her. 
 
 It was not alone her beauty and her helplessness, but 
 her unconscious dignity, her uncomplaining endurance 
 of hardship, her feminine delicacy that showed itself 
 even amid the rudeness of her surroundings and the 
 savagery of her companions. He felt that he could 
 follow her through the whole world if he could but 
 reclaim her at last. 
 
 With a reticence unusual to him, he did not com 
 municate these thoughts to El Estranjero, who had 
 no inkling of their nature, and supposed that Philip s 
 interest in the captive was of the same chivalrous kind 
 that he himself felt, and that was felt by every man in 
 the company. 
 
 The scouts had determined to attack the hunting 
 band early in the morning, but long before it was light 
 Philip, lying by the side of El Estranjero, awakened 
 him with a touch, and asked him to let him and Manuel 
 follow the chief and his comrades, as they could well 
 be spared in the forthcoming fight. 
 
 He was so earnest in his plea that El Estranjero 
 consented, and so they stole out of camp and were lost 
 to view behind the sand hills before dawn. 
 
130 EL ESTRANJEEO 
 
 A savage hunter, stealing early to the side of a little 
 streamlet, found in the soft ooze the track of a horse, 
 and the sudden scattering of the band upon his return 
 to their camp, informed the watchful Juan that the 
 presence of the whites was discovered. 
 
 The projected attack thus became a still hunt, and 
 soon the sharp crack of a woodsman s rifle showed 
 that a lurking enemy had been found. For many 
 hours there was now a desultory battle, but the long 
 range rifles of the scouts proved too much for the 
 hostiles, and five of them were killed outright, and 
 one so severely wounded that he died a few minutes 
 after being discovered. A single brave alone escaped 
 to tell the Pah-Utes, long after, in their far-away 
 Nevada homes, the story of how his brothers had 
 perished. This Indian was driven back into the 
 mountains, and though he was diligently searched 
 for, he got safely away unwounded. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 NAWONA 
 
 The little band of Pah-Utes headed by the chief, 
 traveled until the moon went down, and then camped 
 behind a butte at the water-hole where Manuel and 
 Marco had so recently trailed the burro. The girl and 
 the chieftain had rested a little apart from the others. 
 
 In the morning, before it was light enough to see 
 the tracks about the well and that they were recent, 
 they set out, traveling with less haste than before. 
 
 Manuel and Philip had made good time, but the 
 little party was out of sight before they came to the 
 place where they had rested. From the direction they 
 had taken, Manuel knew their probable movements. 
 
 "They ll make for the second water," he said to 
 Philip, "and will pass the hot part of the day in the 
 shade of the mesquite that grow near. We can go 
 forward without fear, for even should they see us, our 
 rifles are too good for them. They can only run and 
 our bullets can go faster. But they will sleep as 
 though it were night and thus will we come upon 
 them." 
 
 Manuel s prophecy seemed likely of realization for, 
 as he and Philip stopped at the water-hole only long 
 enough to fill their canteens, the fresh trail a little 
 after noon led them toward the mesquite thicket. 
 
 As they approached they paused and 
 [131] 
 
132 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 from the clump came the sound of a fierce struggle 
 with panting, breathing, and now and then a guttural 
 sound. Mingled with this was the sound of a woman s 
 wild weeping. 
 
 Both broke into a run, their feet making little noise 
 upon the soft sand, as they sped toward the bushes. 
 The sound of the struggle had now ceased, and they 
 could hear a curious gurgling noise, then a wild shriek 
 and another and another lent wings to their feet. 
 
 The sight that they saw in the shadow of that thicket 
 made them pause an instant in horror-stricken con 
 templation. Upon the ground, his features composed 
 as in the peace of sleep, lay the chief, stone dead, a 
 great gash upon his naked breast just over the heart 
 showing how he had died. A dozen feet away lay 
 another Indian, and the curious gurgling was the 
 death rattle in his throat. He was bleeding from a 
 dozen wounds, and his hand still clasping his hunting 
 knife showed that he had made a desperate resistance. 
 
 The girl was cowering against a rock in the grasp 
 of the only living member of the hostile braves. His 
 eyes were fixed upon her with a savage leer as he 
 tried to drag her from the boulder, and, with her eyes 
 closed to shut out the sight of his face and the awful 
 scene beyond, the white captive was shrieking in im 
 potent terror. 
 
 Before the savage could turn, Philip had struck him 
 to the ground with a stunning blow from his clubbed 
 rifle, and laid the now fainting girl tenderly upon the 
 sand. He saw now that the buck he had felled was 
 
NAWONA 133 
 
 mortally wounded by a knife-thrust in his side, and 
 while Philip bathed the face of the girl, holding 
 his canteen to her lips, the wounded savage opened 
 his eyes,, gasped, and died at Manuel s feet. 
 
 Here they were alone with an awful tragedy. It 
 was several minutes before Philip s ministrations 
 brought the girl to her senses, and it was some time 
 longer before her terror and grief at the loss of the 
 only protector she had ever known enabled her to tell 
 her rescuers what had happened. 
 
 The captive, who called herself Nawona, could 
 speak the patois of the California Indians, having 
 learned it from a squaw who had married a Pah-Ute 
 buck. As Philip could speak this tongue he was able 
 to converse freely with the girl and ask her many 
 questions. 
 
 He found that they had traveled thus far without 
 anything unusual happening, but that in the morning 
 she had noticed that the two bucks were sullen, and 
 had apparently quarreled about something. 
 
 Their conduct, however, did not alarm her, and she 
 lay down by her father s side to rest in the shelter of 
 the thicket, and being very weary with the morning s 
 march, both soon fell asleep. 
 
 She was awakened by a deep groan, and saw the 
 murderous knife withdrawn from her father s breast. 
 He died without a word or a struggle, while she 
 with horrified eyes looking at him. 
 
 The other brave was also aroused by the groan that 
 awakened her, and, springing to his feet, attacked 
 
134 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 murderer, only to fall, bleeding and dying, after an 
 awful struggle. He had given a good account of him 
 self in the fight, however, and had struck a deathblow 
 at the would-be ravisher. 
 
 Very gently Philip talked to the grief-stricken girl, 
 as he sat with her by the dead chief s side. 
 
 "He was good and kind to me," moaned Nawona, 
 "and was my father." 
 
 "But you are white," said Philip. 
 
 "But he was the only father I have ever known." 
 
 "What is that upon his necklace ?" said Philip, point 
 ing to a sort of golden disk that hung suspended from 
 the dead man s neck by a thong of deer hide. 
 
 "I do not know, he has worn it for many years." 
 
 "Here," said Philip, severing the thong with his 
 hunting knife and handing the trinket to Nawona, 
 "Keep this as a memento of him, for we must leave^ 
 him here in the desert and take you with us to the 
 home of your people, where you will be well taken care 
 of and happy." 
 
 Nawona turned the trinket in her hand, weeping. 
 
 "See," she said, "it has rain drops caught in it. 
 Oh, many a time when I was but a little girl I have 
 sat upon my father s knee and watched the sun spark 
 ling upon them." 
 
 Philip examined the disk curiously. He would have 
 thought it a locket, but nowhere was there evidence of 
 a hinge joining its parts, or a spring to separate them. 
 It was oval in shape, and on one side an old English 
 
NAWONA 
 
 G was outlined in small diamonds, with a large 
 beautiful stone near the center of the letter. 
 
 "Where can he have found that?" said Philip, with 
 a secret thought that maybe it had been the spoil of 
 some savage murder. "Keep it carefully, Nawona, 
 some day we may find its rightful owner." 
 
 With their hunting knives, Philip and Manuel 
 scraped a shallow grave in the sand in which they laid 
 the body of the dead chieftain. After filling in the 
 grave, they cut mesquite bushes and piled them upon 
 it, weighting them down with small boulders that they 
 gathered here and there out of the waste, providing 
 thus against making the dead man a feast for the 
 coyotes and the buzzards, to which they left the 
 bodies of the two dead braves. Then with the girl 
 bet ween them, they set out upon their return to the 
 : first water-hole, where they met El Estranjero and 
 the others, and thence made a quick journey to the 
 hills that skirted the edge of the great waste. 
 
 As all the band was now accounted for but the ten 
 Indians that had been sent after the cattle, and as the 
 settlers had been duly apprised of the raid, with every 
 chance of frustrating it, there was now no need of 
 attempting further punishment, and it was decided 
 to make a leisurely return to Spring Rock camp where 
 the two wounded woodsmen had been ordered to 
 for the party. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE RUNAWAY 
 
 No news had come to the house with the patio of 
 the fate of the scouts in the mountains and, after a 
 long talk with Gardiner, Holcomb determined that he 
 would take Jose, the Mestizo, and with Gardiner 
 would seek the cowboy camp on Mill Creek, where a 
 wide lookout for further raiding parties was main 
 tained, and recruiting from them a sufficient force to 
 succor El Estranjero and the rest, would take the trail 
 for the woods. 
 
 He did not wait for the elapse of the time he had 
 set as the limit for the news to come, but, early the 
 next day, made ready to depart. Alice assisted him 
 with suspicious alacrity, and as she filled his saddle 
 bags with bread, bacon, and jerky, she surreptitiously 
 made ready another pouch with the same provender 
 which she secreted in her own bedroom. She knew 
 that Mill Creek was the first objective point, and she 
 knew, too, every foot of the way. 
 
 Soon after her father and his companions had 
 departed, she saddled her horse, and dressed herself 
 in a stout riding suit. The daughters of California 
 rode "man-fashion" in that day as they do in this, 
 and her mannish riding trousers, wide sombrero and 
 short skirt, with a loose coat-like blouse, were all of 
 gray-green cloth, serviceable and becoming to her 
 
THE KUNAWAY 
 
 137 
 
 blonde beauty. Her golden hair was tightly secured 
 under the crown of her hat, her strong high-topped 
 calf-skin boots protected her limbs from the brush, and 
 thick leather gloves covered her hands. 
 
 She surveyed herself in the mirror with mischievous 
 delight as she stood equipped for her escapade. 
 
 "Now let me see, Daddy," she said, as if addressing 
 her father, "I ll want a blanket, won t I ? Well, here 
 goes," and she took a thick gray blanket from the 
 closet, made it into a neat tight roll and tied it firmly. 
 "And, of course, Daddy, I ll take my gun," and she 
 slipped a pearl-handled revolver into her belt. "Now 
 I am ready," and kissing her hand to the reflection in 
 the glass, she went out, fastened the blanket at the 
 back of her saddle, strapped the knapsack on it also, 
 then sought Francesca. 
 
 The old woman was accustomed to having her 
 mistress make long rides to visit her friends and 
 relatives when her father was from home, and she 
 made no remark as Alice told her that she was going 
 away to stay until her father s return, and gave her 
 certain household directions, which Francesca, accord 
 ing to her usual custom, heard politely, and also 
 according to her usual custom, proceeded to ignore. 
 
 "For what does the Senorita know," she said to 
 herself, "of the kitchen ? It is to me who knows that 
 the doing must be given over." 
 
 Alice, from her safe distance, kept the dust of her 
 father s party in sight all day, and that night she spent 
 with an old friend, the wife of a cattleman, but a few 
 
138 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 miles from where Holcomb had gone into camp with 
 the cowboys on Mill Creek, near the old Thurman 
 camp, not far from the trail that in these days is still 
 traveled to Bear Valley. 
 
 Bright and early the next morning, accompanied 
 by half a dozen cowboys, Holcomb started toward 
 Bear Valley, to join the scouts, who, when Gardiner 
 left them, had been encamped at Rock Springs. Over 
 the picturesque trail past Seven Oaks and Mountain 
 Home they went, the trail following a small clear 
 brooklet, which it crossed again and again as it hugged 
 one side or the other of the ravine. At midday they 
 halted at Mountain Home, and rested in the shade 
 while their unsaddled horses grazed near by. 
 
 All that fair morning, under the flickering shadow of 
 the leaves, out where the sun shone bright and hot, 
 splashing through the clear streamlet, Alice trailed 
 the party. Many times she stopped to watch some 
 wild creature of the wood scurry up the mountain side, 
 or to return the call of some bird in the brush. 
 
 Now and again she sang in a clear soft voice some 
 L ballad of love or adventure, and it was this voice 
 ^p carrolling high and clear that the men lolling upon 
 the ground at the midday camp heard, as she dashed 
 their midst, flung her rein over her horse s neck, 
 leaped to the ground, and before her astonished father 
 xrould get his breath to reprove her, had thrown her 
 irm about his neck and was laughing into his eyes. 
 
 "Why Alice Holcomb," he cried in amazement, 
 f How did you get here, and what do you want ?" 
 
 
THE RUNAWAY 
 
 139 
 
 "Daddy," Alice answered with her sweet ringing 
 laugh, as she deftly loosened her horse s cinch and 
 unstrapped her saddlebags, "I don t want anything on 
 earth, but my dinner and good company. I ve got 
 my dinner here, and if you won t be good company, 
 then I ll have to talk to Jose, or to some of these 
 gentlemen," and she looked roguishly about her. 
 
 "But Alice, where are you going?" 
 
 "I don t know, Daddy, but I m going wherever you 
 do." 
 
 "But there s danger, Alice. We may have a fight. 
 You may get shot." 
 
 "Now look here, Daddy, I am just half as big as 
 you are, and therefore make just half as good a mark 
 for a bullet; so you see I stand just half the chance 
 of getting shot." 
 
 "But I can t allow this, you ll have" 
 
 "Now Daddy," she wheedled, with her pouting red 
 lips touching his cheek, "don t be cross with me. If 
 I were a boy twenty-four years old and didn t go with 
 you at such a time you d say I was a coward, and 
 your heart would be broken. Come, Daddy, you don t 
 want your child to be a coward because she happens 
 to be a girl?" 
 
 Holcomb was always as wax in. the hands of this 
 beloved daughter, and now, though his heart sadly 
 misgave him, he yielded to her wish not to be sent 
 back home. Alice had shrewdly calculated on the 
 difficulty that would attend such a step, with the 
 expedition a day and a half upon its journey, and il 
 
 
 A 
 
140 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBQ 
 
 was with a glad heart that she saw the yielding in her 
 father s face. 
 
 That night the party camped at Seven Oaks, and 
 the next morning as Alice held a cone of sugar that 
 she had brought in her pouch up to her horse, who 
 was fond of this particular dainty, a bee lighted 
 upon the lump of sweetness. Soon there came another 
 bee and another, and Alice, laying the sugar on a 
 rock, watched the little insects. 
 
 As the bees would get their fill they would fly away, 
 all in the same direction. Her father had come up and 
 two or three of the men, and with her were watching 
 them. "Hello !" said one of the watchers, "there must 
 be a bee-tree somewhere near. Have you got any 
 more sugar, Miss Alice? If you have, come along and 
 we ll line them. " 
 
 Lining bees is a process practiced only in a country 
 with plenty of timber and few inhabitants, and almost 
 unknown to all except the pioneer, who resorted to this 
 plan to supply himself with a substitute for sugar, an 
 article very difficult to get and sometimes entirely 
 unattainable in the backwoods. 
 
 The bee hunter takes a little sugar in a dish, and 
 going into the wilderness or mountains, sets the sweet 
 down upon a rock or log in some comparatively open 
 space, watching it very closely. If a bee lights in the 
 sugar the hunter s interest becomes intense. With 
 unflagging attention he notes the direction of its 
 flight, then taking up the dish he moves in the same 
 direction as the home-returning bee. In another open 
 
THE RUNAWAY 141 
 
 space farther on, he again places his dish of sugar 
 where the bees may reach it, again observes them 
 gorge and turn homeward, and repeating this process 
 finds the tree. 
 
 Holcomb had already come to the conclusion that 
 this was a good place to make a halt and had sent Jose 
 and another man upon a scout to see if they could 
 discover any signs of El Estranjero s party or what 
 had befallen them. 
 
 The suggestion to "line" the bees, therefore, was 
 quickly adopted and Alice entered into the sport with 
 zest. The bees having filled themselves with the sugar, 
 all took the same direction, and following them cau 
 tiously, their home in a great pine tree was soon found 
 and robbed of its sweet store by a skilled bee hunter 
 in the party, several hundred pounds of honey being 
 the reward. They carried away all they wanted, and 
 it was then determined to move on through the 
 enchanted wood of Barton s Flat and establish their 
 temporary camp on the Santa Ana, leaving a rear 
 guard to meet Jose and come on with him. 
 
 As Alice lay that night rolled up in her blanket in 
 the lee of a rock sufficiently distant from the camp 
 fire for privacy, but near enough for protection, she 
 looked up at the solemn night sky studded with its 
 stars and her thoughts went out to the man she loved. 
 
 Somewhere in these mountains he too lay under the 
 stars, he too was enwrapped by the mystery of the 
 brooding night. In her mind there was no thought 
 
 that she had done an unmaidenly thing in coming 
 10 
 
142 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 forth in this manner, and no disguise to herself of the 
 fact that the central impulse that had led her here was 
 to secure knowledge of him. 
 
 How would she bear it if Jose should bring back 
 the news that he was dead or mortally wounded? 
 Something in her own heart quickly repudiated the 
 suggestion. "He is not dead," she told herself, "no, 
 he is somewhere in this wilderness alive and unhurt, 
 and every forward step will take us nearer to him-." 
 
 He did not love her, well she knew that. Over and 
 over she had told herself that sad fact, so often that 
 it now had lost its first sting. A woman s love does 
 not always depend upon her being loved in return, 
 Alice thought, and any one who thought that it was 
 immodest to love without return, was sordid minded. 
 It would be immodest to reveal it to one who did not 
 love, but not so to experience it. 
 
 That night while Alice slept out under the stars, 
 Estranjero lay beneath an oak tree at the crest of the 
 low hill bordering the cienega on the edge of the 
 desert. A blanket spread tent-wise on some saplings 
 marked the place where Nawona slumbered, worn out 
 with grief and travel. Over there to the left was 
 the camp of the men who had shared with Estranjero 
 the hardships of the past few weeks. 
 
 Their faces were set toward home. They would 
 find there the love of wife, children or kindred. But 
 here was he like a dead leaf borne hither and thither 
 upon the wind, and there yonder was the white girl 
 they had rescued. Their fate was much alike. Neither 
 
THE KUNAWAY 
 
 143 
 
 could remember home, friends, or any past, different 
 from the present. He would befriend her, should she 
 not find favor with the Holcomb family. 
 
 Then thinking of the kindness of the dwellers of 
 the house with the patio toward himself, he reassured 
 himself of her welcome there, and then his mind 
 drifted to Alice, and with her face before him he 
 passed into slumber, and who can doubt that some 
 where in that space where the souls of sleepers meet, 
 his soul met hers and was content. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE RETURN JOURNEY 
 
 They were breaking camp, and Philip stood with 
 Nawona and El Estranjero ready for the journey 
 across the mountains to Elevado. It was a picturesque 
 spot, where they had passed the night, and to Philip 
 in the exuberance of youthful vitality it seemed the 
 most lovely of any they had seen on that long journey. 
 It may have been because now, the strain of pursuit 
 ended, he could better apprehend this beauty, or it 
 may have been some subtle influence of the morning, 
 and of the presence of the young waif of the woods, 
 whose confiding and happy glances rested now upon 
 him and now upon his companion. 
 
 On one side of them flowed a stream, its dashing 
 spray sparkling in the sunlight in all its crystal purity, 
 bedewing the grass and overhanging foliage along 
 the banks with freshening drops that hung like tear 
 drops from a Peri s eye. Behind them was spread the 
 great glistening deserts, whose burning sands extended 
 in every direction as far as the eye could reach. 
 
 And yet that vast expanse, so full of danger to all 
 human and animal life unprotected on its great bosom, 
 has its attractions, and to many, a fascination almost 
 unaccountable. 
 
 To those born and nurtured upon this waste, there 
 is no place in the world in which they are afterward 
 
 . 
 
THE RETUEN JOURNEY 
 
 145 
 
 satisfied. There are those who have been compelled 
 to escape the mortal terrors of "The Great White 
 Plague," to take up their abode upon the desert, and 
 have become so infatuated with the life that upon their 
 recovery nothing could induce them to return to their 
 former homes. 
 
 To Nawona, the desert had been a kind nurse and 
 playfellow. Here she had gathered the dry bladder-like 
 seed pods that the Indian children attach to horsehairs 
 and cause to float in the air like toy balloons. Here 
 she had watched gorgeous sunsets and nights of 
 ethereal mystery and beauty, and it was with tear- 
 dimmed eyes that she took up the trail with her new 
 friends that led her to a strange and untried life. 
 
 That night they camped upon a high ridge and ^ 
 when the weary comrades of her march were lost in 
 slumber, the young girl raised herself from her bed 
 of pine boughs and sat watching the entrancing beauty 
 of the night, her heart full of strange emotions. 
 
 Below and far away lay the desert, its border sharply ^ 
 defined by the fringe of foliage that marked the edge 
 of the mountain zone and added its charm to the view 
 of the waste. The moonlight upon the nearer woods 
 and mountains brought out every feature of the 
 landscape. 
 
 In the distance and above it all, towered the great 
 peaks of Grayback and San Jacinto, with their snow- 
 covered summits gleaming in the soft light and -- 
 outshining the brightness of the desert below. Like 
 sentinels guarding this semi-tropic beauty they stood 
 
146 EL ESTRANJEEO 
 
 forth in their stately grandeur, visible to the eye from 
 every point of the range and of the desert and even 
 from the broad expanse of the distant ocean. 
 
 Upon this entrancing scene the wakeful girl gazed 
 long in silent contemplation. Her troubled thoughts 
 were soothed. Her grief for her dead and the fear 
 for her future were merged into a great peace. Her 
 mind turned to her new companions, to the grave, 
 handsome El Estranjero, whose gentle manner 
 and constant silent thought fulness for her comfort 
 kindled in her a warm feeling of affection, impelling 
 her often in that day s march to keep near him, as she 
 felt a vague comfort in his presence. 
 
 She thought too of Philip, and blushed as she 
 remembered how his ardent glances had met her own 
 shy eyes, and the admiration that, even untutored 
 as she was, she read in them. He had laughed and 
 sung that day, he had jested and smiled, and his 
 gayety and good nature had lightened the long miles, 
 and his infectious hilarity was proof against every 
 accident. Sometimes where the trail had revealed a 
 particularly beautiful view he had called her attention 
 to it. 
 
 How different were these men from the silent and 
 stolid beings with whom her life had been passed. 
 How enchanted seemed that day s journey with the 
 mingling fragrance of forest pine and waving fern, 
 the dewy freshness of the mountain air greeting the 
 senses at every step, causing the blood to tingle in the 
 veins, thrilling the being in every fiber. 
 
THE RETURN JOURNEY 147 
 
 Nurtured as she had been in the desert and the 
 mountains, seen now under the magic light of a new 
 hope and promise for the future, they too seemed new 
 and full of a hitherto unknown beauty. 
 
 Morning found her still in the peace and glamour 
 of the moonlight, and as the days went by Philip 
 noticed, with something of a feeling akin to jealousy, 
 the strong mutual attraction that seemed to grow 
 between the girl and El Estranjero. It was at his feet 
 that she sat when the venison was distributed at 
 mealtime. It was to him she put her questions and 
 made her confidences, and although Philip had volun 
 teered to teach her English, and as they went along 
 translated the Mission patios for her into English 
 sentences, which she repeated after him, it was to 
 El Estranjero that she spoke those sentences when 
 she had once mastered them. 
 
 To Philip himself her manner was straightforward 
 but shy with a shyness that he secretly thought most 
 adorable, and at the same time attempted to vanquish 
 by his own light-hearted gayety. Traveling thus, in 
 good health and with light hearts, the little party 
 journeyed toward Spring Rock camp, where they 
 expected to meet the two men who had been wounded 
 in the fight with the middle division of the hostile 
 band. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 
 BLACKBERRYING 
 
 It was now only a day s march to the Spring Rock 
 camp, and as Nawona, though uncomplaining, showed 
 evidences of fatigue, El Estranjero decided to rest 
 here while the others of the party hunted for fresh 
 meat to replenish their nearly exhausted supply. 
 
 It was early in the morning, the forest had just 
 awakened, and the joyous notes of the birds were 
 resounding from every bush and tree. All of the 
 hunters except Marco, Philip, and El Sefior had 
 dispersed to the chase, and these, with Nawona, were 
 still seated about the embers of the camp fire, the two 
 white men with their guns across their knees about 
 to arise and take to the chase, while Marco was to 
 remain in camp with the girl. 
 
 As they were chatting, two beautifully spotted deer 
 raced through the camp within three feet of them, 
 but neither man raised his gun to fire, the grace of 
 the hunted creatures and the pathos of their frightened 
 glances softening their hearts. 
 
 Philip rallied El Estranjero upon his compassion, 
 while Nawona smiled with pleasure at the little 
 incident. 
 
 , "As for me," Philip said, "I m tired to death of this 
 everlasting venison. We havejiad nothing but meat 
 
BLACKBEEEYING 149 
 
 and bread now for weeks, and I for one am ashamed 
 to look a deer in the face." 
 
 "I m always ashamed to look a deer in the face," 
 replied El Estranjero, "and most hunters are unable 
 to kill the pretty creatures for the joy of killing. It 
 is only the need of food that makes me a deer hunter. 
 But come, Philip, we must do our part." 
 
 The two men strolled away together, keeping a 
 sharp lookout for game. As they neared the top of 
 a ridge, they saw a tangle of greenery with clusters of 
 ripe berries glistening in the sun. 
 
 "Blackberries," cried Philip. "Let s fill our pouches 
 and take them back to camp. I ve a craving for fruit 
 and vegetables that is almost a mania. Now if we 
 could only find some wild celery we d have vegetables 
 as well as fruit, but I can t remember any place around 
 here where it grows, but I do remember that black 
 berry patch now, and wonder why I didn t think of 
 it before." 
 
 Philip and El Estranjero propped the mouth of their 
 pouches open with a stick at the top and bottom, so 
 that the fruit might not be crushed. Philip set his 
 gun against a tree, and El Estranjero slung his upon 
 the strap about his shoulder, and, using the broad 
 leaves of the oak pinned together with twigs into a 
 cup as a picking vessel, they set to work to fill their 
 knapsacks and contribute to the camp luncheon what 
 they knew would be a much relished dainty. 
 
 The vines were filled with great black juicy berries - 
 that would have made the mouth of an epicure water | 
 
150 
 
 EL ESTKANJEKO 
 
 with anticipation. The berry-eating denizens of the 
 wildwood had made no impression upon them, and to 
 the thrifty soul of Philip the tons of this delicious 
 fruit wasting upon the ground brought the greatest 
 regret that they had no means of saving it for their 
 farther journey. 
 
 After having eaten to their hearts content, the two 
 men began to fill their pouches. Soon they became 
 absorbed in their work, and so gradually became 
 separated by a little cove. Here Philip placed his 
 pouch upon the ground, and picked with great energy, 
 for the berries here were so plentiful that he could 
 fairly gather them by the handful, and almost without 
 moving from the spot, he filled his pouch. 
 
 He now determined to assist El Estranjero in filling 
 his, and had picked his leaf cup full and was turning 
 to proceed toward his companion, when he heard a 
 slight noise in the direction of the place where he had 
 left his berries. 
 
 Turning, he was astonished to see a cub bear calmly 
 eating from his pouch, evidently greatly enjoying the 
 result of the morning s labors. For a few minutes 
 Philip stood and gazed at him, as, like a kitten, the 
 little fellow stood patting the ground with his fore- 
 paws while munching the berries, keeping up at the 
 time a good-natured noise midway between a purr 
 and a growl. 
 
 Philip laughed at the sight, and then remembering 
 that the cub was encroaching upon the camp luncheon, 
 
BLACKBEREYING 151 
 
 he ran toward the animal crying, "Hi there, you little 
 rascal/* 
 
 The cub held his ground, and Philip picked up a 
 small stone as he ran, and when within about ten feet 
 of him threw it with such good aim that it struck him 
 squarely upon the back with great force. The cub 
 squealed pitifully and started to run, but in some 
 manner the strap of the pouch slipped over his neck 
 and he was unable to free himself from it. 
 
 The dangling impediment frightened him so badly 
 that he rolled over and squealed, then up again, he 
 was off, squealing at every jump. 
 
 The sight was so ludicrous that Philip laughed 
 loud and heartily in spite of his vexation at losing his 
 full pouch, and El Estranjero appeared around the 
 point of the cave to inquire into the cause of his 
 hilarity. What he saw, however, was no cause for 
 laughter. 
 
 "Philip," he cried, "Philip!" Turning his head at 
 the call, Philip saw him point behind the place where 
 he, Philip, stood. Quickly facing about, he saw to 
 his horror an immense she-bear making toward him 
 with mouth open and eyes glaring, growling at every 
 leap. 
 
 The cub had started in the direction of Estranjero, 
 and Philip s rifle was about a hundred yards away. 
 His one thought was to reach his gun and seize it 
 before the bear could get him. He was a college ; 
 trained athlete, a runner of almost unexampled agility, ? 
 and felt confident that he could outstrip the bear. This 
 
152 
 
 EL ESTKANJEBO 
 
 he might have done had he not tripped, almost at the 
 outset, upon a vine and fallen sprawling upon the 
 ground. He had only time to turn himself and draw 
 his hunting knife before the bear was upon him, one 
 great paw upon his breast, the red mouth open, tongue 
 lolling and the vicious teeth exposed in am angry snarl 
 as it lunged its head toward him. 
 
 Philip, retaining his presence of mind, struck 
 fiercely at the glaring eyes, and then without 
 definite aim jabbed at the brute s muzzle. He had 
 often wondered how a man would feel in the presence 
 of a danger that might mean death, if he had time to 
 reflect upon the perilous moment. Philip had braved 
 great dangers, but at those times had been so absorbed 
 in action that he had no time to note his own feelings. 
 
 Strangely enough, the ferocious appearance of the 
 great brute seemed to inspire him with no terror, and 
 he was surprised at this and at the calmness with 
 which he analyzed his sensations. He caught himself 
 speculating, as he jabbed at the bear with his knife, 
 on the degree of pain he might feel should the bear 
 succeed in breaking his guard and fastening her 
 gleaming white teeth in his face or neck. 
 
 A feeling of apathy stole over him, an impersonal 
 benumbed sort of condition totally unmixed with fear. 
 Was this himself acting in this tragedy or some other 
 person who concerned him so little that his fate pro 
 duced no apprehension or even excitement? Was he, 
 r Philip, the man who was fighting so fiercely for his 
 i life and yet seemed to care so little? Ah, yes, he now 
 
BLACKBEKKYING 
 
 153 
 
 remembered that persons and animals lose all fear of 
 death when they realize that it is inevitable. 
 
 Such were his thoughts in the few seconds that he 
 lay literally within the jaws of death. He had for 
 gotten that Estranjero was near. His whole objective 
 consciousness was dormant in the face of this danger, 
 but his subjective mind was as clear as sunlight, and 
 was not only fully aware of all that was happening, 
 but for the moment had assumed the function of the 
 objective and was reasoning from cause to effect. 
 
 Suddenly there was a deafening explosion so close 
 to him that it startled him into his normal self, and 
 the next instant the huge bear fell across his body, 
 knocking the breath out of him and rendering him 
 wholly unconscious. 
 
 When he came to himself, which he did almost 
 instantly, the bear s body had been pulled off from him, 
 and El Estranjero, white and anxious, knelt beside 
 him, mopping with his handkerchief his chest, which 
 was bleeding from the scratches of the bear s claws. 
 
 Philip sat up and looked about him. He smiled a 
 little shakily as he rose to his feet. He was unhurt, 
 for the scratches w r ere only superficial. 
 
 "Well, comrade," he said, as he spurned the bear 
 with his foot, "we won t have to eat venison for lunch 
 even if the cub did spill my berries. Where s my 
 knapsack ? Oh, there it is ! I think, hereafter, Senor, 
 I will carry my gun on my back, as you do." 
 
 "I think it would be wise," said Estranjero. 
 
 Philip picked up his fallen hat and came and gazed 
 
154 
 
 EL ESTBANJEBO 
 
 down upon El Estranjero, who was examining the 
 huge carcass. "Serlor," he said, "this is the second 
 time you have saved my life, and you have doubled the 
 debt I owe you." 
 
 "You owe me nothing," El Estranjero returned with 
 a frank smile. "I have only done what you would 
 have done for me or another under the same circum 
 stances. I happened to be the one nearest you both 
 times, and accidents will happen in a life like this. 
 You d better go back to camp now and send Marco 
 with the pack horse. I will dress the bear and then 
 we ll bring it in. Bear steak will taste good with 
 these berries." 
 
 El Estranjero handed Philip his well-filled pouch 
 and set to work upon the bear. Philip quickly made 
 his way to the camp, where his disheveled condition 
 excited Nawona s tenderest concern, and, while Marco 
 went with the pack horse to help El Estranjero, Philip 
 surrendered himself to the girl s ministrations. As 
 she washed and dressed his hurts with an unguent 
 she carried in a beaded pouch at her slender waist, 
 Philip longed to take the busy brown hands in his own 
 and cover them with kisses, and he even confessed to 
 himself afterward that he had rather unnecessarily 
 I exaggerated his suffering, in order that he might feel 
 ithe sweet balm of her pity. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 CAMPING 
 
 Holcomb s little party was encamped upon the head 
 waters of the Santa Ana, for Jose had come with the 
 news of the pursuit of the larger band of Indians and 
 its destruction in the Pass, and of the two scouts 
 who had been injured in the fight but were making 
 good progress and there awaited El Estranjero s 
 return. 
 
 To these men Jose had borne tidings of the result 
 of the raid at Crafton, and now that it was known 
 that there were no hostiles in the mountains, except 
 the small band that had by this time been annihilated 
 or had reached the desert, the cowboys attending the\\ J 
 expedition took leave of the party, and Alice, her 
 father, Gardiner, and Jose remained in camp, having 
 determined to join El Estranjero s party at Spring 
 Rock upon its return. Gardiner volunteered to go 
 back and remain with the two men already there and 
 at once to bring them information of the return of 
 their friends. 
 
 It was planned that Gardiner should seek for the I 
 party by the blazes they should make upon the tree 
 trunks as they went, in case they should leave their 
 present camp. 
 
 Left alone with her father and Jose in the depths 
 of this forest beauty, Alice gave herself up to the 
 
156 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 enjoyment of the sylvan life. For the first time since 
 childhood she had the delight of her father s company 
 from morning till night, and over and over again 
 she made him confess that her running away to come 
 to him was nothing less than an inspiration. 
 
 They moved their camp to the head waters of the 
 Santa Ana. Here in the early dawn Alice and her 
 father, with the fishing rods that Holcomb always 
 carried when he went even upon a trip like this, where 
 the food supply must be derived from nature s store 
 house, and with bait from the mold near the banks 
 of the stream, fished for one whole forenoon with such 
 substantial results that Jose was busied all the after 
 noon dressing their catch and cooking it for future 
 needs, for the pioneers wasted none of the good gifts 
 of the woods and streams, nor ever killed for the love 
 of slaughter. 
 
 Again and again as the two fishers would cast their 
 hooks they would hardly touch the water before there 
 would be a rise, and the next instant there would be 
 dangling from the line a trout, the size of which 
 justified the hackneyed term "speckled beauty/ 
 
 Some of these must have weighed at least two 
 pounds, and the smallest was surely three-quarters of 
 a pound, and Alice declared as she sat under a tree 
 at \noon, some broad leaves of the oak serving her as 
 napery and platter, her fingers for knife and fork, 
 that never in all her life had she tasted anything so 
 delicious as these trout, fresh from the river, that old 
 rose had Broiled over the coals. 
 
"Fished for one whole forenoon." Page 140 
 
CAMPING 157 
 
 Those who love fishing and have fished from that 
 same stream in these days, can have no idea of the 
 abundance and size of the trout there and the ease 
 with which they were obtained. 
 
 The squirrels here were so tame and so numerous 
 that Alice delighted to watch them as they skipped 
 from branch to branch or, sitting upon some rock, 
 gravely observed the campers, often venturing almost 
 within reach of their hands. It seemed a shame that 
 Jose was so unsentimental as to convert the pretty 
 creatures into soup and stew, but Alice s gustatory 
 enjoyment was no less keen than her sentimental 
 appreciation, and it seemed to her that no food had 
 ever tasted so ambrosial as this eaten under the open 
 sky in the green wood. 
 
 One day her father left her alone in camp, which 
 was now pitched under the pines at the foot, and upon 
 the northern side of Old Grayback. Jose had built a 
 brush house or wickiup, and here upon the borders 
 of a clear pool which Alice had named Mirror Lake, 
 because of its placid surface and the clear reflections 
 in the water, they were sheltered from the cool night 
 winds. The country here was comparatively level, 
 studded with stately pine and spruce, with velvety 
 green turf beneath, that gave it the appearance of an 
 English park. 
 
 It was a delightful spot, and Alice was content to 
 lie upon the ground in the cool shade and dream her 
 waking dreams, and did not object when her father 
 11 
 
 
158 
 
 EL ESTBANJERO 
 
 left her alone for an entire day and tramped away 
 with his gun upon his shoulder. 
 
 He came back late at night, foot-sore and tired, but 
 empty handed. Alice had received glad news that day, 
 and her excitement and the charm of the moonlight 
 was upon her, and she was awake and waiting for 
 him when he came in. 
 
 "Why, Daddy," she cried, "Where s your game?" 
 
 "Bring me some supper and I will tell you." 
 
 She brought him some of the squirrel stew and cold 
 broiled fish that had been reserved for him and settled 
 herself to talk to him as he ate. 
 
 "Lassie," he said at last, as satisfied with his meal, 
 he lighted his pipe and leaned back against a tree to 
 enjoy it. 
 
 "Lassie, have you ever thought what this country 
 of ours would be without these mountains? Without 
 this natural barrier that holds back the sands of the 
 desert and prevents their spreading to the sea?" 
 
 "It would be a desolation, Daddy, that makes me 
 shudder to think of." 
 
 "Yes, my girl, a desolation. We should be thankful 
 for the convulsion of nature that uplifted the earth 
 and made it possible for the human family to exist 
 upon this western slope, where the surroundings are 
 more beautiful and climate more perfect than in any 
 other part of the country." 
 
 s "Say any part of the world, Daddy, and you will 
 conk nearer the exact truth." 
 
 it other country would afford a horseback 
 
CAMPING 159 
 
 journey that can be made in two hours from the snow- 
 line on the mountain top to the golden-globed orange 
 grove and the home of the fig and vine, where the 
 flowers bloom not only in the spring but where their 
 fragrance charms us through all the long golden year ?" 
 
 "Why, Daddy, you are becoming quite poetic." 
 
 "I believe," continued Holcomb, dreamily, "that this 
 country grows more and more beautiful each year. 
 Oh, yes, you said I had grown poetic. I have been 
 to-day to the home of that streamlet, the place where 
 it was born, a place of poetry." 
 
 He made a gesture toward the babbling brook that, 
 clear as crystal and cool as the snow from which it 
 came, dashed over the rocks and stones near by. 
 
 "Tell me about it, Daddy," said Alice. She loved 
 to hear her father talk at all times, for the feeling 
 between the two was profound and tender, but most 
 of all she loved to hear him when in this mood. 
 
 "Sometime our valley down there is to be as thickly 
 settled as is Belgium. But first of all there must be 
 water to irrigate the thirsty fields, and to-day I climbed 
 Grayback to take a look into the future." 
 
 "To look into the future, Daddy?" 
 
 "Yes, Alice, I wanted to settle two things: whether 
 there was a glacier formation up there to give an 
 endless supply of water that was my look into the 
 future; and I wanted to discover if it were true that i 
 no matter how sturdy a tree, its top could never^ 
 reach higher than the peak, no matter how near thej 
 top it grew that was mere curiosity." 
 
160 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "And what did you discover?" 
 
 "I found an old glacier formation that would be 
 interesting to the scientific man, and satisfied myself 
 that the streams born in those heights will furnish a 
 sufficient water supply to irrigate all the fertile lands 
 which lie down there, spread out from the mountains 
 to the ocean." 
 
 "And the trees?" 
 
 "I found pine trees three feet in diameter, that 
 owing to the action of the winds reached a height of 
 but four feet, whose outspread branches extending 
 more than twenty feet in every direction from the 
 trunk, were as flat as a table." 
 
 On the morrow they were to journey to Spring 
 Rock, for Gardiner had come in during the day with 
 the news that El Estranjero and Philip had returned, 
 and that with them was a white girl whom they had 
 rescued from the band they had exterminated. 
 
 It was with a thankful heart that Alice closed her 
 y , eyes that night, for El Estranjero and Philip were 
 -jffsafe, and soon, yes, very soon now, she would see 
 " them. How long the time had been, but the waiting 
 was over now, and to-morrow they would meet again. 
 |lt was with this thought that Alice sank into the 
 dreamless rest that nature gives to those who seek her 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 AT SPRING ROCK 
 
 The day s journey to Spring Rock was ended and 
 El Estranjero and his companions were surprised to 
 find three men there instead of the two they had ex 
 pected to see. When El Estranjero recognized Gardi 
 ner he hurried forward, eager to hear the news from 
 the valley. 
 
 Gardiner was no less surprised to see a slender young 
 girl dressed in the Indian garb but unmistakably white, 
 walking by El Estranjero s side, for the two men 
 wounded at the Pass had not learned of the presence 
 of the girl in the advance Indian band. 
 
 Soon the whole party was gathered about Gardiner, 
 who graphically related to them the story of the 
 Crafton raid and set at rest the doubts that any might 
 have entertained that the defeat of the Pah-Utes was 
 now complete and overwhelming. 
 
 For hours El Estranjero and those who accompanied 
 him were alternately listeners to and narrators of 
 adventures, and long before it was light next day 
 Gardiner was on his way back to Holcomb s camp, 
 which he found without difficulty because of the blazed 
 places upon the trees along the way the little party,; 
 had taken. 
 
 It was the middle of the forenoon when Holcomb, 
 [161] 
 
162 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 Jose and Alice rode into El Estranjero s camp at 
 Spring Rock, and as Gardiner had neglected to speak 
 of Alice s presence with the party, the surprise of 
 El Estranjero almost made him dumb. 
 
 Philip was lounging on the grass, his head upon 
 his knapsack, and as he sprang to meet Alice, his face 
 lighted with joy and surprise. 
 
 "Why, Chummie," he cried, giving her a hug as 
 he helped her out of the saddle and kissing her half 
 a dozen times, "\vhere on earth did you come from?" 
 
 "Let me go, Philip," she cried playfully, as she 
 heartily returned his caresses. "Let me go, you bear. 
 Why, bless me," she said, standing off, holding both 
 hands and looking at him, "Phillie, lad, you re as thin 
 as a racer, and you re actually getting wrinkles 
 between your eyes, you ve grown so much older since 
 I saw you last." 
 
 Philip dropped her hand and the wrinkle between 
 his eyes became a scowl, but he said nothing, and 
 Alice turned to greet El Estranjero, as he finished 
 shaking her father s hand. She felt cold all over as 
 he took her hand in his and she cast her eyes upon 
 the ground for fear that he might see in them some 
 thing of her pained feeling. 
 
 As she rode into camp she had seen the picture 
 of Philip lying prone upon the grass, and a hundred 
 feet away from him, under a great oak tree, sat a 
 beautiful and graceful girl, her long curling unbound 
 hair twined with a chain of seed buds of the wild rose, 
 her blue eyes raised in childish, and it seemed to Alice, 
 
AT SPRING ROCK 163 
 
 adoring confidence to El Estranjero, who was bending 
 over her, speaking in low, rapid tones. 
 
 In her presence he had always been silent and 
 somewhat constrained. With her there was never this 
 eager interest, this low-toned sustained talk. This 
 was no momentary passion, like that which had moved 
 him that moonlight night when the mocking bird sang 
 in the rosebush. His face was transfigured into a 
 tender and touching beauty. In the wild he had found 
 this beautiful creature, had rescued her, and loved her. 
 
 Philip, too, had been watching the couple under his 
 half-closed lids for an hour. He was too far away 
 to hear what they said. He drew his conclusions 
 regarding their mutual feelings, not from this one 
 occurrence alone, but from the numerous other things 
 that he had noticed in the days since Nawona had 
 been with them. 
 
 "She was attracted to him the very first moment," 
 he said to himself, in bitter mood. "She listens to 
 ?- every word he says, she follows his every movement, 
 ??and she cuddles near him as though she liked to be 
 where she could reach out her hand and touch him. 
 
 "With me, though," his thoughts ran on, "she is 
 altogether different. When I speak to her, she colors 
 to the edge of her hair. If I am alone with her five 
 minutes, she makes some excuse to leave me or join 
 the others. When I speak, she casts down her eyes \ 
 and seems not to be listening, and it was I who saved 
 her, it was I who found her and thought for her; and 
 
164 
 
 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 it is I," he always admitted to himself, "it is I who 
 love her, yet I am nothing to her." 
 
 Nawona. too, had her thoughts as the golden-haired 
 girl upon the horse rode into camp. She had seen 
 animation supersede gloom on Philip s face, and the 
 enthusiasm with which he welcomed the newcomer. 
 
 "Is it then the young Sefior s sister?" she questioned 
 El Estranjero. 
 
 "No," he replied, but he had no time to explain 
 their relationship, for he immediately went forward to 
 greet his old friend Holcomb. 
 
 El Estranjero, too, had noticed Philip s welcome, 
 and the pain that he felt made his own greeting seem 
 cold and constrained. 
 
 For the moment all seemed to have forgotten 
 Nawona, but Philip was the first to notice where she 
 stood a little withdrawn, her hands clasped in front 
 of her. He sprang to her side and taking the loosely 
 clasped hands in his own, led her trembling and 
 frightened to Alice. 
 
 "Chummie," he said, "this is our Nawona, our little 
 white maiden whom we found a prisoner with the 
 Utes." 
 
 The clear blue eyes were raised shyly to those off 
 Alice, who impulsively put both arms about the home 
 less girl and kissed her on both cheeks. 
 
 "You dear little nut-brown lady," she said kindly, 
 "you shall be my sister. I have never had a sister, 
 Nawona, and have always wanted one." 
 
 Alice spoke in English, and Nawona comprehended 
 
AT SPRING ROCK 165 
 
 only a few words of what she said, but the kindness 
 and sweetness of her manner won Nawona instantly 
 and at the touch of the red lips she smiled through 
 a mist that gathered in her eyes. 
 
 "Speak to her in Indian, Chummie, she doesn t know 
 what you are saying/ 
 
 Alice patted the girl s brown head as it lay against 
 her shoulder and repeated, "I want you to be my 
 sister, little Nawona, and to live with me and let me 
 love you and teach you. What do you say?" 
 
 "I say that the Senorita is lovely and kind, but 
 before I answer as my heart wills, I must first speak 
 to him, El Estranjero, my good friend, and tell him 
 that you would care for me." 
 
 "Go then/ said Alice, a little unsteadily. Almost 
 instinctively Alice raised her eyebrows inquiringly as 
 she glanced at the gloomy Philip. 
 
 "Yes," he said, as if in answer to a question, "it 
 was a case at first sight, I think. By Jove, it s hard 
 on me, for I tell you, Chummie, I ve seen many a 
 sweet girl, but never one like this wild rose of the 
 desert. Oh, Chummie," and the boy s voice broke 
 in spite of himself, "I can t tell you how it hurts, but; 
 it s worse than being attacked by a wild-cat or clawed 
 by a bear, and I know how both those things feel/ 
 
 "You, too, Laddie!" replied Alice. "Come, let usfl 
 walk a little down there in the shade and you shall! 
 pour out your heart to Chummie," and she linked 
 her arm within his and led him away. 
 
 El Estranjero paused in the middle of a sentence ; 
 
 / 
 
166 
 
 EL ESTKANJEKO 
 
 and watched them go, while Nawona turned resolutely 
 away and with the stolidity she had learned from the 
 women among whom she had been reared, made her 
 face an imperturbable mask as she sank down at the 
 foot of an oak and cast her eyes upon the ground. 
 
 Holcomb, with the amiable stupidity of his kind, 
 saw nothing of the expression upon either face, but 
 was deep in his story of the rout of the Indians. 
 While they compared notes on the casualties sustained 
 by the enemy, it was decided that all of the party 
 except themselves and Jose should be allowed to go 
 to the valley, and that they would remain here where 
 game was plenty for a few days to allow Nawona 
 time for complete rest from the severe fatigues that 
 so much traveling had entailed. Holcomb s own horse 
 would serve for a pack horse, while Jose s and Alice s 
 would suffice for the needs of the girls. 
 
 Marco and Manuel, leading the burro to which they 
 now had joint ownership, Gardiner and Juan with the 
 scouts who now eagerly set forth for the valley, made 
 a cavalcade of a dozen persons, and these had packed 
 and begun their journey an hour before Jose s mellow 
 call summoned Alice and Philip from their conference 
 in the shade of the great oaks, where the stream babbled 
 along in the moss. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 CONFIDENCES 
 
 "Now, Laddie, I want the whole story, from the 
 very beginning," Alice had said, taking off her 
 sombrero and fanning her flushed face. "I want you 
 to tell me everything that has happened from the time 
 you left up to this very minute." 
 
 The tale proved to be more exciting than she had 
 imagined. Philip told of the attack of the wild-cat 
 and how El Estranjero s presence of mind saved his 
 life. He related the story of the blackberry picking, 
 and how again El Estranjero rescued him from death. 
 
 The story of the long pursuit, the discovery of the 
 white girl by the pool, the trail across the desert, and 
 the opportune arrival of himself and Juan to save 
 Nawona from the clutches of the wounded brave was 
 all told with a simple directness that held the girl s 
 breathless attention. 
 
 In imagination, as he talked, she saw Estranjero 
 leading his men through the wild Pass and over the 
 deep ravines. She could see him at the camp fire and 
 on the march, and she could see him, too, with the 
 fair captive by his side in the long hours of their 
 return journey. She could understand the girl s deep 
 infatuation for such a man, for had not she herself 
 fallen a victim to his personal charm, and she had 
 
 [167] 
 
168 
 
 EL ESTRANJEEO 
 
 seen many men while Nawona had known only the 
 rude savages among whom she was reared. 
 
 "I loved her from the very first, Chummie," Philip 
 said, a flush mounting to his forehead as he made the 
 confession. "I loved her the moment I saw her down 
 by the pool, and I have gone on loving her more every 
 day and hour since. 
 
 "Now, Alice, I suppose you don t believe in love 
 at first sight, and maybe you don t believe at all in 
 such unreasoning love as mine is." 
 
 Alice was silent, her face instantly grave. 
 
 "You are mistaken, Laddie," she said softly. "You 
 are entirely mistaken. I was smiling because I was 
 thinking of what you said about thrills, in the patio 
 that morning, before you started on this campaign. I 
 was thinking that the thrills were coming thick and 
 fast for you." 
 
 "They are indeed, Alice," replied Philip, "and I 
 would be willing to dispense with a few of these 
 particular thrills if I might secure peace instead." 
 
 "So you mean, Philip, you would rather have peace 
 of mind than to have your love for Nawona?" 
 
 "No indeed, Alice," was the quick rejoinder, "I 
 could never give that up." 
 
 "Even though it is a hopeless love?" inquired Alice. 
 
 "Even though it is a hopeless love," said Philip. 
 
 "But Philip, think of the long nights when you toss 
 !upon your pillow thinking of her. Think of the days 
 when you know that she is careless of you though 
 every waking moment centers about her. Oh, 
 
 fC J 
 
CONFIDENCES 
 
 Philip, would you not give up a hopeless love if you 
 could? Is the pain of it not more than the pain of 
 renouncing it?" 
 
 Philip had raised himself upon his elbow and was 
 gazing at Alice curiously, but her eyes were fixed 
 upon a swaying branch far ahead and she did not 
 notice his fixed attention. 
 
 "Laddie," she continued softly, her slender hands 
 plucking a tuft of- grass, "it is a strange thing, this 
 love that tortures you, and yet will not be crushed by 
 coldness or neglect or distance. It is a strange thing, 
 surely, this love that lures and lashes, that feeds and 
 fills with hunger at the same time." 
 
 His silence caused her to turn and meet his look. 
 
 "Chummie, you were not thinking of me at all, 
 while you were saying that." 
 
 Alice colored but held her peace. 
 
 "Chummie, you re in love yourself." 
 
 Alice turned away her flaming face. 
 
 "Now look here, Chummie, tell me who s the man, 
 and I ll go out and persuade him with a club, if I 
 can t make him reasonable any other way. What s his 
 name, Chummie ? I am your father-confessor now ; as 
 you have listened to my tale of woe, I ll listen to 
 yours, and we ll console each other." 
 
 Again Alice was silent. Swiftly Philip thought 
 over the various men with whom he knew Alice to 
 have been acquainted, and as swiftly his mind rejected 
 them all. Jove, it was some one out West here, some 
 one Alice had met after leaving him in St. Louis. He 
 
170 
 
 EL ESTRANJEKO 
 
 had noticed a change in her as soon as he arrived, and 
 more than once since he had thought about it. It had 
 been most pronounced since the night of the Rodeo, 
 when she walked home with El Estranjero. 
 
 It came to him then like a flash; the look upon 
 Alice s face when El Estranjero went away without 
 saying good-bye to her; the strange brightness in her 
 eyes so often when she had glanced at him . Yes, 
 it was El Estranjero, he now had no more doubt of 
 it than if Alice had confessed it. 
 
 "Chummie," he said, taking both her hands and 
 making her look at him, "You needn t tell me, I know 
 already, it is El Estranjero." 
 
 The girl s face grew white. Had she then showed 
 her preference so plainly that even her gay, careless 
 young cousin had seen it? Was that the reason 
 Estranjero never repeated his question of the night 
 in the patio? Was her love given so swiftly that it 
 seemed worthless to him? 
 
 All these queries passed through her mind, but she 
 said not a word. 
 
 "Chummie, you are a cool-headed, clever girl, and 
 you never gave the least sign that anybody not as deep 
 in love as I am, could have interpreted, and I never 
 thought of it myself until this minute, but I know it s 
 El Estranjero. Poor little cousin, and you, too?" 
 
 "I too, Philip," Alice breathed. 
 
 "Why, Chummie, he s years older than you." 
 
 "His soul is in its first youth, Laddie." 
 
 "You know nothing about him, Clnimmie." 
 
CONFIDENCES 
 
 171 
 
 "I know all that he himself knows." 
 
 "But he does not love you, dear." 
 
 "Ah," said Alice, laughing through the tears that 
 gathered in her eyes, "and Nawona does not love you, 
 dear. It strikes me, Laddie, we are in the same boat, 
 and all we can do is to comfort each other till the 
 sea swallows us up." 
 
 Just the n Jose s clear call to dinner startled them. 
 
 "Go, Philip," she said. "I will come in a minute." 
 
 She laved her face in the brook, brought into order 
 the disarrangement of her hair, and then humming a 
 careless tune, came into camp and, sitting down by 
 Nawona s side, charmed away a sadness that seemed 
 to have stolen over the young girl. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A LESSON IN LOVE 
 
 That afternoon Nawona went alone to the brook- 
 side. There in the shadow of a great rock in a cove, 
 sheltered from all observation, was a deep and quiet 
 pool. The girl removed her garments and plunged 
 into the pool, sporting in the water like a fish, her 
 white limbs and body making an odd contrast with her 
 sun-browned face. 
 
 When she had tired of swimming, she clothed her 
 self, spread out her wet hair to dry, then combed it 
 rudely, braided it with the chain of red seed buds 
 wound through the strands, put the cincture with its 
 eagle feather about her forehead, and sat looking sadly 
 into the mirror-like surface of the water. Soon she 
 threw herself down upon the ground and wept 
 unrestrainedly, her slender hands clenched, her body 
 shaken with sobs. 
 
 Here El Estranjero, who had killed a buck which 
 was carrying into camp, came upon her, and as 
 he had lifted a little freckle-faced, long-limbed girl 
 from the shade of an orange tree so long ago and 
 dried her tears, so he now lifted Nawona. 
 
 "Poor little girl," he said softly, pressing her cheek 
 against his shoulder, where she lay still sobbing, "poor 
 1 little girl, El Estranjero is sorry with you that you 
 weep for the chief who was your father." 
 
 [172] 
 
A LESSON IN LOVE 
 
 173 
 
 Nawona was making a strong effort to control her 
 self, and soon sat up and wiped her eyes. 
 
 Then El Estranjero noticed her hair, dressed again 
 in the Indian manner. 
 
 "Why, Nawona !" he said in surprise, "why do you 
 braid your hair again and wear the eagle s feather?" 
 
 "Oh, my friend," sighed the girl, "I am but a poor 
 Indian after all, even though my skin is white! I 
 know nothing, my hands are brown, my face is ugly. 
 But, oh, she is like a lily with her golden hair and her 
 white forehead. She is so beautiful and so good, and 
 I am ugly and ill-natured and ungrateful. Leave me 
 here in the woods to die, El Senor, for how can anyone 
 love me ?" 
 
 "Poor little girl," El Senor said, "and are you i, 
 jealous of Alice ? Dear little Nawona, you are pretty, 
 too, and you are sweet and winsome, though you do 
 not know it. All love you, and in a few months your 
 own skin will be as white as Alice s and she will teach 
 you many things, for she is good." 
 
 Nawona dropped her head in shame at her petty 
 outburst, and with nervous fingers began to unbraid 
 her hair and shake its curly length about her face. 
 The eagle s feather she cast away with its cincture. 
 
 "Oh, Estranjero, I am ashamed, ashamed!" she 
 said. "I am a wicked girl, but see, I have thrown the 
 feather away. Now I will try to learn of the Sefiorita 
 to be sweet and unselfish like she is, and shall pain 
 you no more by my bad temper." 
 
 12 
 
174 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 She smiled at him now, but it was a wan little smile, 
 and the tears were very near it. 
 
 "What is it, little maid?" questioned El Sefior, 
 kindly. "You know that I am ready to give you 
 counsel in any trouble. What is it that hurts you so?" 
 
 "She is not his sister," murmured the girl, "and 
 yet he held her and kissed her as men do who love 
 their squaws." 
 
 "Not squaws," corrected El Senor, "that is Indian. 
 Say sweetheart." 
 
 "Yes, sweetheart," said the girl, her voice lingering 
 If lovingly on the sweet word. "Then he goes away 
 1 with her alone, and they stay long and talk together." 
 
 "You are speaking of Philip?" softly questioned 
 El Estranjero. 
 
 "Of Senor Philip. Yes." 
 
 "Oh," he said with a faint smile, "and you did not 
 like it that he should kiss Miss Alice and talk with 
 her alone?" 
 
 "No," said the girl, simply. 
 
 "And why did you not like it?" asked El Sefior. 
 
 The girl pouted her pretty lips and said nothing. 
 
 "Why did you not like it?" El Sefior insisted. 
 
 "Oh, my friend," the girl said, raising her eyes to 
 his face, "why does the moonlight make me sad ? Why 
 does the bird song make me weep and laugh at once? 
 Why does every hour seem long when Sefior Philip 
 is not near? Why does the whole day seem like an 
 hour when he is with me?" 
 
A LESSON IN LOVE 
 
 "Why, indeed, little girl," El Senor said, "only you 
 can answer that." 
 
 "He came to me when I was alone and in danger 
 and he buried my father and brought me to you on 
 the mountain. Always he chose the smoothest places 
 for my feet, always he brought me the best food and 
 the coolest water. Often I tried to thank him, but 
 when I look at him, so tall and beautiful, it is as 
 |( though I looked at the sun and was dazzled, and can 
 not speak." 
 
 "Why, little maid? Why?" El Estranjero gently 
 asked again. 
 
 "Yes, why?" the girl repeated. "Why does his 
 touch make something here," and she laid her hand 
 upon her chest, "to hurt? Why do I wish to hide 
 from him, yet wish to be near him? His smile is 
 like the spring to me, his frown like the winter, and 
 now the Senorita has come and he will smile on me 
 no more." 
 
 She looked sadly away toward an empty nest in a 
 blasted pine, and the Sefior s glances followed hers. 
 
 "Nawona," he said kindly, "the Great Spirit 
 brought you to us through many dangers. We can 
 not have all the blessings of life. Do you not wish 
 Sefior Philip to be happy ?" 
 
 "You know, Sefior, I do." 
 
 "Do you think he is happier with you or with the 
 beautiful golden-haired Senorita?" 
 
 "Never have I heard him laugh as loud as to-day," 
 replied the girl, "though he is often gay. It has been 
 
176 
 
 EL ESTBANJEBO 
 
 long since his face has been as smiling as it is to-day. 
 I think it must be," she said with a pause between 
 every word, "yes, it must be, because of the Senorita." 
 "Nawona, you love the Senor Philip. You are 
 young, you will see many men as handsome. Your 
 feeling will pass." 
 
 The girl slowly shook her head. 
 "Yes, Nawona, it will -pass. What would you give 
 Senor Philip to make him always happy?" 
 
 "Any thing, all things, even my life; but I am a 
 poor girl, I have nothing to give." 
 
 "Yes, Nawona, you have something to give, and 
 rue love always gives. Love is giving, not receiving. 
 Here in the woods and among the people that you 
 ave known, love means possession, does it not?" 
 The girl assented. 
 
 "And if one wants what another has chosen, what 
 is done?" 
 
 "They fight," answered Nawona, with a shuddering 
 recollection of the struggle over her father s body. 
 "They fight and the strongest takes. And if it is a 
 woman, they beat her if she does not wish to be taken. 
 She must follow her master wherever he leads." 
 
 "But the white man does not beat the woman. He 
 chooses only where he loves. She follows willingly, 
 because she loves," said Estranjero. 
 "Yes," assented Nawona. 
 
 "Now you and I must learn the noblest part of 
 love," said El Estranjero, speaking more to himself 
 than to her, "we must learn to be silent and give no 
 
A LESSON IN LOVE 
 
 177 
 
 sign. We must learn to suffer and never to weep. We 
 must learn to renounce, and somewhere the Great 
 Spirit will give us our heart s desire. Come, little 
 sister." 
 
 Hand in hand they returned to the camp. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 BY THE EVENING FIRE 
 
 The days of close companionship in the camp had 
 quite worn away the distrust of Alice that Nawona 
 had felt, while at the same time a hundred little 
 things, words, glances, and long strolls in the woods 
 that Alice and Philip were wont to take together, had 
 convinced her of their mutual affection. 
 
 This naturally drew her close to El Estranjero, 
 for in his presence, and the knowledge that he knew 
 , ( x her secret love for Philip, she found comfort. To 
 Alice and Philip the mutual attitude of El Estranjero 
 and the girl confirmed the mistaken idea they had 
 conceived of their relations, and although the subject 
 was not again mentioned between them, it was always 
 in their thoughts. 
 
 Now they had turned toward Elevado, and were 
 making good progress when late in the afternoon the 
 haze that had all day been in the air was pronounced 
 by Jose to be a mountain fire. The party had intended 
 camping at Glenn Ranch, but as they proceeded the 
 smoke became so dense that it was decided to climb 
 a near-by ridge commanding a wide view over the 
 surrounding country, that they might, if possible, 
 locate the fire. 
 
 They saw that the dry grass at the lower end of 
 [178] 
 
 
BY THE EVENING FIRE 179 
 
 Glenn Canon had in some way been fired. A current 
 of wind from the ocean was driving the smoke and 
 flame up through the valley in great volume, and that 
 the fire was traveling almost with the rapidity of an 
 express train. 
 
 Their chief concern now was to avoid this danger, 
 and to find a trail that would take them around the 
 apparent track of the fire. 
 
 As they descended the ridge, there rushed past 
 them, hurrying out of the smoke that now curled over 
 its summit, a wild-eyed doe and then her mate. A 
 moment later a wild-cat crossed their path, and hardly 
 had they taken a dozen steps until a pair of coyotes 
 loped down the hill, swerving and turning aside from 
 them, but seeming to have less terror of the men who 
 were their natural enemies than they had of the fierce 
 red danger behind them. 
 
 They could hear other animals crashing through the 
 underbrush, and the girls felt relieved when they again 
 reached the place where they had left the horses and 
 Jose led them to a trail he found to the eastward, away 
 from the track of the conflagration toward Cajon 
 Pass. 
 
 In half an hour they were out of the dense smoke 
 and emerging into an atmosphere which, though not 
 entirely clear, was yet bearable, and from a heat the 
 intensity of which made breathing difficult. Now they 
 were safe, as the fire could not reach them here, and 
 after they had crossed the Pass they pitched their 
 camp in a secluded place, surrounded by rocks and 
 
180 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 gigantic trees, one of those beautiful spots so common 
 in the picturesque mountains of California. 
 
 It was quite dark when they reached this point and 
 all were fatigued by this trying day s journey, but 
 when the camp fire was built and Jose had prepared 
 a venison stew that would have made the mouth of 
 an epicure water, they were unusually gay as they 
 ate their evening meal. When this was over fresh 
 fuel was heaped upon the fire and they all stretched 
 themselves luxuriously upon the ground to enjoy it, for 
 the air grew more and more chilly with every night, and 
 the camp fire was now necessary to their comfort. 
 
 Alice had spread her blanket upon the ground, and 
 as her father and El Estranjero lighted their evening 
 pipes, she placed the saddles upon a convenient hun> 
 mock that made them serve as a rest for a weary back, 
 and drawing Nawona down beside her, leaned her 
 elbow upon her father s knee. 
 
 Holcomb was gazing meditatively at the fire. 
 "Daddy," she said, "it s a great shame that Glenn 
 Canyon should be burned out in that way. It s one 
 of the most beautiful places in all these mountains. 
 It s a pity it should be literally destroyed." 
 
 The foliage will grow again," Holcomb responded, 
 "but for many years it will be a desolate place, with 
 charred and blackened shrubs and trees that mar the 
 landscape. Fire makes a hideous desolation when it 
 is let loose in these mountains." 
 
 "I should think," Philip remarked, "that some 
 be found to check these fires before they 
 
"One of those beautiful spots so common in the mountains of Southern 
 California. " -Page 180 
 
BY THE EVENING FIRE 181 
 
 have spread so far and do so much damage. What 
 do you think, Sefior?" 
 
 "I believe," replied El Estranjero quietly, "that in 
 the future a way will be found to do so, or to prevent 
 them altogether." 
 
 "That will not be," said Holcomb, "until necessity 
 compels the residents of the valley to conserve the 
 entire water supply of the mountains for use in 
 irrigating the plains below. It surely will not be until 
 the population of the plains has increased to many 
 times its present numbers, and no successful solution 
 of the difficulty need be expected even then until the 
 Government takes a hand in it. Now, the prairie fires 
 of the Middle West are a different proposition." 
 
 Alice settled herself more comfortably, for she saw 
 that a story was forthcoming, and this was the time 
 and the place for story-telling. Holcomb s life had 
 been one of adventure, and his daughter and Philip in 
 their childhood had their favorite stories, which they 
 never tired of hearing. Alice knew what was coming, 
 and she had always keenly enjoyed this particular 
 story. Its appropriateness in the light of their day s 
 experiences made her glad her father had recalled it 
 at this particular moment. 
 
 "In the Middle West," Holcomb began, "one oL 
 those fires that sweep over hundreds of miles of land,j 
 destroying everything before it, does much less real : 
 damage than one in our mountains, unless, of course, 
 it is one that passes through a timber belt. The rains 
 are frequent there, and often within ten days after a 
 
182 
 
 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 fire-stricken portion of the country has been deluged 
 with rain, nature has restored its beauty, and the 
 smiling landscape has a carpet of green, completely 
 hiding the scars of the fire from sight." 
 
 "Were you ever in one of those fires?" questioned 
 El Estranjero. 
 
 "Yes, on the Des Plaines River, west of Chicago, 
 I once had such an experience. It was in the fall, 
 and a party of us, on our way overland to the West, 
 had camped on the banks of the Des Plaines. After 
 dark we saw a curious glow upon the sky to the west. 
 It had soon deepened into a long red glare, extending 
 clear across the horizon, and we knew that it was a 
 fire a long distance away. 
 
 "The fire burned all that night, and all of us were 
 wakeful. Luckily, the wind had gone down about 
 dark, and we hoped that the fire would burn itself out 
 before it reached us. All night the sky was aglow, 
 and we decided to remain where we were until we 
 were sure it was burned out. About ten o clock in 
 the morning the wind began to blow from the west 
 at the rate of about forty miles an hour. W 7 e saw 
 the blaze revive and leap forward, and we hastily 
 broke camp and retreated about two miles up the 
 stream to a place where, in crossing the day before, we 
 had noticed a small wooded island." 
 
 "Couldn t you back-fire?" questioned Philip. 
 
 We might have done so, but with such a wind 
 blowing it would have been a dangerous experiment. 
 
 "Well, by wading and swimming we reached the 
 
BY THE EVENING FIRE 
 
 183 
 
 island. Some of our wagons were drawn by oxen, 
 and we had much trouble in getting these and other 
 cattle we were driving across, but we accomplished 
 it at last, and formed our wagons about in a circle 
 and placed them within, so that they could not be 
 stampeded by any wild cattle that might cross to the 
 island the way we had come. 
 
 "There was plenty of fresh green grass here. It 
 covered the island, and the green foliage was not such 
 as would catch fire easily, either, so we felt secure and 
 thankful as we watched the oncoming fire, which was 
 driving before it great herds of buffalo whose terrific 
 bellowing filled us with consternation. If they should 
 happen to come our way the river channel would not 
 save us. 
 
 "Fortunately the herd was headed farther down the 
 river and about the place where we had been the night 
 before. They thundered on to the bank, and if the 
 leaders of the herd tried to stem the onward rush it 
 was too late, as its momentum carried it into the 
 stream until the waters were full of the drowning 
 wretches. And still they blindly rushed to their fate 
 until the river bed was filled from shore to shore, 
 making a bridge of flesh for the oncoming of the 
 thousands to cross, and damming the stream until it 
 overflowed its banks." 
 
 "Gimini!" ejaculated Philip, "how many do you 
 think there were?" 
 
 "We could not estimate the number, but thousands 
 upon thousands. Many wild creatures also came to 
 
184 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 the island for safety, but were so badly frightened or 
 exhausted that they huddled in peace together. Even 
 predatory creatures like the prairie wolf and wild 
 cat made no attempt to appease their hunger upon 
 their natural prey. 
 
 "That night a doe lay under my wagon all night 
 and some prairie dogs crept into the blankets of one 
 of my companions. I tell you, if St. Patrick had been 
 on that island he would have lost his reputation if 
 he had attempted to drive the snakes off, for there 
 were more snakes there than any one mortal saint 
 could attend to. They were so plentiful that we had 
 to pick our way around to keep from stepping upon 
 them, and they covered the grass so that our animals 
 could not eat until we had driven the snakes aside so 
 they could feed. 
 
 "For the sake of the creatures that had taken refuge 
 upon the island, as well as for ourselves, we had hoped 
 that the river would stop the progress of the fire, but 
 in this we were doomed to disappointment, as the 
 fierce wind carried burning wisps of dry grass across 
 the river and set the plain on the opposite bank on 
 fire in a thousand places. The flames were soon racing 
 and roaring on the east bank with a fury unabated 
 and with no indication that they would ever abate until 
 everything consumable had been devoured. 
 
 We alone were comparatively untouched by the 
 conflagration that swept the land. You can imagine, 
 from our experience to-day, how we suffered from the 
 smoke and heat that filled the air. and how fortunate 
 
BY THE EVENING FIRE 185 
 
 we thought ourselves that our only troubles were those 
 which grew out of the proximity of creeping and 
 crawling things. 
 
 "I didn t like to wake up to find a big gopher snake 
 coiled upon my stomach, or to shake a couple of more 
 venomous reptiles out of my shoes when I wanted 
 to use them myself in the morning. It wasn t pleasant 
 to feel field mice running up your sleeves or to know 
 that sundry wild animals were watching your every 
 movement from the brush. 
 
 "We knew we would have to stay on the island as 
 long as there was food if the weather held clear, but 
 fortunately, the next day after the fire passed us, there 
 was a soaking rain lasting all night, and three days 
 after this, little blades of grass began to prick their 
 spears through the blackened sod, and we resumed our 
 journey." 
 
 "What became of the lizards and snakes and other 
 friends you left behind you?" asked El Estranjero. 
 
 "Oh, they had begun to decamp as soon as the rain 
 ceased, and when we were ready to start there was, 
 so far as we could determine, scarcely a living thing 
 remaining on the island. The little doe that slept 
 under my wagon had become so tame that it followed 
 us, but in Iowa we gave it away to a man by the 
 name of Allen, and when I went back East several 
 years later, I found it in the park at Des Moines, 
 living in peace and plenty." 
 
 Holcomb knocked the ashes from his pipe and put 
 it into his pocket, and rising, threw some more wood 
 
186 
 
 EL ESTKANJEEO 
 
 upon the fire. The glow leaped up, casting weird 
 shadows about them. Nawona was reclining against 
 the saddle, her gaze upon the flame. Alice from the 
 shadow of her sombrero, which she had pulled over 
 her forehead as if to shield her eyes from the glare, 
 was watching the firelight upon Estranjero s face. 
 She noticed how worn he looked, as though he had 
 passed sleepless nights. The gray eyes were sad, 
 and there was something wistful in the set of the 
 usually firm lips. He was off the guard which he 
 had so long maintained over his features, and the girl, 
 as she guardedly watched him, felt that all was not 
 right with him. 
 
 "What can it be/ she thought, "that troubles him?" 
 Once during her father s story he had turned his gaze 
 toward her and there was such yearning in the look, 
 such a passionate tenderness in his face now that he 
 thought himself unobserved, that it brought back to 
 her the song of the mocking bird, and his cry, "Alice, 
 it is my soul speaking to you, can you not reply?" 
 
 Then she remembered his attitude toward Nawona, 
 the manner in which they seemed always to seek to 
 travel together and to confide in each other, and she 
 mentally gave herself a sharp shaking. 
 
 "Wake up, Alice," she said to herself, "your dream 
 is ended, your imagination is playing you tricks." 
 
 Philip was stretched out upon the ground, his elbows 
 supporting his head, and his feet away from the fire 
 toward which the others stretched themselves. He 
 had chosen a place behind Alice and Nawona, where 
 
BY THE EVENING FIRE 187 
 
 by reaching out a hand he could touch either. A long 
 curling tendril of Nawona s hair straying over the 
 saddle which served her as a pillow almost touched 
 his hand. Cautiously he drew its silken length through 
 his fingers, and pressed it to his lips. A sudden move 
 ment of Nawona s head before he could release the 
 tress, caused her to turn in astonishment. She laughed 
 good-naturedly, and Alice, at once divining what had 
 happened, tweaked his own waving forelock sharply, 
 saying, "There, you naughty boy, that is because you 
 pulled Nawona s hair. Come round by me, sir, where 
 I can see what you are doing. No, you don t," as he 
 sought to escape her, "come right here," and she 
 settled him, to his great content, between them upon 
 the blanket, where without moving he could see every 
 expression upon the pretty face of the now blushing 
 Nawona, and as Alice sank down beside him, he gave 
 her hand a grateful squeeze and whispered to her, 
 "Chummie, you re a good fellow." 
 
 This little stir now being over and Holcomb having 
 replenished the fire, Philip was determined to have 
 another story. 
 
 Truth to tell, Philip was not so deeply interested 
 in his uncle s narration as he appeared to be, but he 
 was reclining only two feet from Nawona. He could 
 smell the faint woodland fragrance of her hair and 
 clothing, and could have touched the slender brown 
 hand that lay beside her, if he had but dared. This 
 was a situation not to be relinquished, so he said, 
 
188 
 
 EL ESTRANJEKO 
 
 "Uncle, tell us the Buffalo Bill story. I haven t heard 
 it since I was a kid." 
 
 "Please do, Daddy," Alice pleaded. El Estranjero 
 and Nawona added their entreaties, both protesting 
 when Holcomb declared that he feared the garrulity 
 of an old man might weary them. So with great 
 content Holcomb settled himself and began. 
 
 "I was given quite a scare some few years later 
 when hunting with a friend. I was with a party 
 hunting buffalo, when one of them, William F. Cody, 
 since famous as a scout and hunter (and known all 
 over the country as Buffalo Bill ) became separated 
 from the rest, and the crack of his rifle was all we 
 needed to hear as evidence that he had successfully 
 bagged his buffalo. 
 
 "We were all busy in our camp on one of the 
 numerous buttes found in that part of the West, 
 when suddenly one of the party called out Tire. In 
 a moment every eye was turned in the direction of 
 Buffalo Bill, and to our horror we saw that he was 
 already cut off from our camp by a prairie fire that we 
 had just noticed. Instantly the entire camp was all 
 excitement, every one suggesting a way to save Bill, 
 as he was familiarly called. Up to this time it was 
 evident by his actions that he did not know of his 
 anger. He was apparently engaged in skinning the 
 dead buffalo, and so busy that he had not looked up, 
 and consequently could not have seen the fire. 
 "Realizing that we could not help him, I fired my 
 
BY THE EVENING FIRE 189 
 
 rifle as a warning. He heard it, and for the first 
 time seeing the fire, started on a run towards our 
 camp, but came only a short distance, when he sud 
 denly stopped, turned around, and slowly retraced his 
 steps to the dead buffalo. At this moment the fire and 
 smoke intervened and we could see no more of our 
 poor old friend Bill. 
 
 "We were camped out of range and out of all danger 
 from fire, but absolutely helpless to aid our luckless 
 comrade. After the fire had swept past and the ground 
 was sufficiently cool to travel, Missouri Joe, as he was 
 called, an old and loved comrade of Buffalo Bill s, 
 and I saddled up our horses and picking our way care 
 fully down from the Butte rode towards the spot 
 where we had last seen him, for the purpose of finding 
 his body and giving him a decent burial. 
 
 "When we reached the spot, there lay the dead 
 buffalo, singed and black with fire and smoke, but not 
 a sign of Buffalo Bill or his remains. He s wiped 
 out, he s wiped out, cried Missouri Joe, with the tears 
 rolling down his cheeks. He s the squares! pard I 
 ever had, and he s passed in his chips. I wish to God 
 that I had been as square with him. I cheated him in 
 our last game of poker and feel cursed mean about 
 it now. I wish I could give him back the money I 
 took, I surely do, he s the squarest pard I ever had. 
 Oh, hold your tongue, won t you, and help me 
 out, called a smothered voice that sounded as though , 
 it came from somewhere under the ground, and at 
 
 ,3 
 
190 
 
 EL ESTBANJEBO 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 the same time a hand was thrust out from the side 
 of the dead buffalo and waved for assistance. 
 
 " Help me out, won t you, and do it quick, I m 
 smothering here. Missouri Joe sat back in his saddle 
 and laughed long and loud and made no move towards 
 assisting his old pard, as he called him. 
 
 " Help me out, won t you? Stop your infernal 
 cackling, won t you, and get me out of this, you old 
 sardine/ 
 
 "Still Missouri Joe made no move to assist him> but 
 laughed all the louder, so I jumped from my horse 
 and taking my hunting knife, cut away the front of 
 the carcass at the opening that by the action of the 
 fire had become smaller since Bill had got into it, 
 and helped him to crawl out. His head covered with 
 grease which dripped from his hair and saturated his 
 clothes, gave him such a ludicrous appearance that I 
 could not blame Missouri Joe much for again indulging 
 in one of his boisterous and prolonged laughs. 
 
 "Buffalo Bill waited some time for him to finish 
 laughing, and when that seemed useless, he turned 
 towards the carcass, and, seizing his hunting knife, 
 coolly resumed the operation of skinning the buffalo. 
 When we reached camp he related in detail all that 
 had happened and his thoughts and feelings as he 
 realized that he had been cut off from camp by the 
 fire and that death stared him cruelly in the face. It 
 was then he thought of trying to save his life by 
 removing the entrails of the half-skinned buffalo and 
 
BY THE EVENING FIRE 
 
 191 
 
 crawling inside. By pulling the hide down over the 
 opening in the body, he was able to protect himself 
 from the flames on that side, and suffered only from 
 heat and smoke, which for a time were so intense as 
 to almost suffocate him." 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE ARROWHEAD 
 
 "Nawona," said Philip, turning to her, breaking 
 the brief silence that had fallen upon them when 
 Holcomb finished his story, "y u have been with us 
 two weeks now. Do the ways of the whites seem 
 very different from those of the Indians? You have a 
 fair chance to judge of us now, for we are in the same 
 surrounding as those in which they live." 
 
 He spoke to her in the corrupted Spanish of the 
 Mission Indians with now and then an Indian word. 
 She replied in the same tongue, but no description 
 can give the soft slurring of the terminal consonants, 
 the musical lingering upon the vowels, for Nawona 
 spoke unlike an Indian and like the Spanish Senoritas 
 of the olden time. 
 
 "Senor Philip," she said, her full glance upon him. 
 "One thing I notice is that you are gentle to women 
 and you seek the best for them always. I suppose it 
 is to me to be contented, more happy than I have ever 
 been before." 
 
 "Nawona," interrupted Alice, "Do you know any 
 thing about your capture, how you came to be with 
 the Utes?" * This was the question all had longed 
 to put to the girl, but had refrained from asking, 
 thinking that should she mention the subject they 
 would press their queries. 
 
LEGEND OF THE ARROWHEAD 193 
 
 "I know only what I remember and what my father, 
 the chief, told me," she answered. 
 
 "Tell us what you know, Nawona," El Estranjero 
 urged. 
 
 The girl sat up, her arms clasped about her knees, 
 and gazed hard into the fire. 
 
 "I was a very little girl, so high, maybe five sum 
 mers, when I remember first the Utes. I had been 
 sleeping, and my mother s cry awakened me, and 
 scared me so much that I think it is why I remember." 
 
 "Your mother," cried Alice in surprise, "was she, 
 too, among the Utes ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, Senorita." 
 
 "Go on," said Alice, while the others listened with 
 almost breathless attention. 
 
 "It was morning, we were in the woods, and there 
 was a camp fire. It was summer and it had been 
 raining, for all was w r et, and I noticed my own 
 clothing was soaked, and I cried out and wept, for I 
 was afraid as my mother shrieked. 
 
 "She was kneeling beside me, and my Ute father 
 spoke to her. I do not know what he said, I was too 
 young to understand or to remember, but my mother 
 shrieked again and again. No! No! No! Long the 
 chief, my father, spoke to her, and there were other 
 Indians, and some were Apaches and some were Utes, 
 and the others went away through the woods and the 
 Utes waited while my father, the chief, spoke with 
 my mother. 
 
 "Still at everything he said she cried out, No! 
 
194 
 
 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 and again No! and then she clung to me and sat 
 down upon the ground, her long hair all wet and her 
 face very pale. 
 
 "The chief, my father, then signaled two of his 
 men. They came and took me away from her and 
 I wept. Then they tied her hands and feet and they 
 made a litter of green boughs, and they placed her on 
 it, and carried us, me with her. 
 
 "Many times I remember the camp fire and the 
 woods and then the desert and the woods again, but 
 it is all like a dream of the night." 
 
 Nawona was silent, then Philip recalled her from 
 ~Jier reverie. 
 
 "Tell us what else you remember, Nawona, for we 
 may be able to find some of your people." 
 
 "A long time we stayed in one place, and my mother 
 ceased to weep and she sat in the wickiup of my 
 father, but she never smiled and she talked strange 
 things even in the nighttime, and sang snatches of 
 strange songs. She would not speak to me to answer 
 my questions, but always said something strange. 
 Then they told me that the Great Spirit had laid his 
 hand upon her and had taken away her grief and 
 that she was sacred, and none touched her as she 
 came and went and all brought her food." 
 
 "She was crazed," Holcomb explained. "The 
 Indians never harm a deranged person, and many a 
 man has saved his life when taken captive by them by 
 feigning to be demented." 
 
 "But with my mother it was always so. Sometimes 
 
LEGEND OF THE ARROWHEAD 195 
 
 when we were alone she would not know who I was, 
 and would drive me away from her, and sometimes 
 she would shriek for hours together; then they would 
 tie her hands and feet and lay her on the ground till 
 she was calm again. So she was for three summers. 
 Then she died, and the chief took from her this," and 
 Nawona drew from her bosom the golden disk and 
 passed it to Mr. Holcomb, who looked at it curiously, 
 turning it about and noticing the sparkling diamonds. 
 The trinket was quickly passed from hand to hand 
 and eagerly examined. Then Nawona replaced it 
 about her neck by the thong from which it depended 
 and again hid it in her bosom. 
 
 "And is that all?" Philip asked. 
 
 "That is all," said Nawona. Again all were silent. 
 Then Estranjero said to Nawona : 
 
 "Tell us will you not the little story you told 
 to me the other day about the Arrowhead?" 
 
 "But I speak too much," returned Nawona. "It 
 is not good that a woman should do so very much 
 speaking." 
 
 "That is one of the notions that you got from the 
 Indians," laughed Philip. "You will soon learn when 
 you have lived with us for a while, that nothing is 
 more becoming to a woman than to do the greater 
 part of the talking." 
 
 She looked at him in some bewilderment, and then 
 Estranjero again interrupted. 
 
 "Tell us, Nawona, the story of the Arrowhead. 
 Perhaps our friends have heard it before, perhaps not." 
 
196 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "This is the story as I have often heard it told by 
 the Indians." said Nawona, as she lay back upon the 
 blanket, her head pillowed upon the saddle, looking 
 out into the starlight night and, as she spoke, watching 
 the flickering shadows of the camp fire. 
 
 "Long ago, before the Spaniards came to the land 
 of the Southwest, the valley was inhabited by a tribe 
 of Indians who had come from the far East. They 
 had been driven from their homes by fierce enemies 
 and had come across the savage plains and the fearful 
 deserts, led by the great Sun God, whom they wor 
 shiped, and here they had found a beautiful green 
 valley. 
 
 "In this valley of sparkling streams, shady trees, 
 and fertile pastures, they saw the land of promise 
 which they had been seeking, and, building their camp 
 fires, set up their brush and tule huts. Undisturbed 
 by their neighbors, they dwelt in peace, with plenty 
 all about them. The men found small game, snakes, 
 rabbits, squirrels, and deer; there were many grizzly 
 and black bear in the mountains, too, which came 
 down into the valley in search of buds and berries. 
 The hunters, however, never touched them, for the 
 bear is a brother, and under the protection of the 
 gods; ill would befall the daring one who did him 
 harm or ate his flesh. The mountain lion, also, was 
 a brother, and they crouched in silent fear when its 
 snarl echoed from mountain to hillside. 
 
 "The hunters went to the seashore to seek for flints 
 and the hard woods which they used in their crafts. 
 
LEGEND OF THE AEEOWHEAD 197 
 
 They shaped their arrows and clubs, bent their bows, 
 retold the tales of their fathers, danced, played, and 
 were happy. 
 
 The women of the tribe found the hours pleasant, 
 too. In this genial climate, amid kindly breezes, they 
 found abundant acorns, seeds and roots. They made 
 baskets in which to keep their supplies and clothing 
 of skins and fibers; they pounded boulders into mills 
 and mortars, and sometimes they sported with their 
 lords, the braves of the tribe. Happily the years 
 slipped by, and the dwellers of the valley grew fat in 
 contentment and peace. In prosperity and comfort 
 they forgot the Guiding Spirit that had led them safely 
 from fierce foes through fiercer deserts into a land of 
 plenty and quiet. They ceased to offer their sacrifices 
 and neglected the sacred rites of their fathers. 
 
 "Their great father, the Sun God, grew angry at 
 this ingratitude. He caused the sun to send fiercer 
 rays down upon them to remind them of him. But 
 they had forgotten his power; they only murmured, 
 Soon the rains will come. Then he dried up the 
 rain clouds; he caught up the ocean fogs that rolled 
 inland and pressed them to his arms ; he dried up the 
 dews of Heaven before they touched the parching 
 land. 
 
 "The flowers and grasses that had covered the 
 mountain slopes and the valleys were burned crisp | 
 and black ; the streams ceased to flow and the springs i| 
 became dry mud holes; the leaves on the trees dried 
 and curled up under the feverish touch of the Sun 
 
198 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 God. Animals died or hid in the depths of the earth 
 or mountains, and birds fled over the highest peaks. 
 Day after day the people gazed into the vast blueness 
 of the sky and prayed the Sun God to relent; they 
 now recalled his power and his past service, and they 
 prostrated themselves before him in entreaty. Men, 
 women, and children began to die of thirst, crying 
 in madness for water one cooling drop of water. 
 
 "The chiefs of the tribe gathered and held solemn 
 councils. They recollected all of the ceremonials of 
 their fathers and now performed them all. Day and 
 night they prayed and danced and offered gifts and 
 worked charms. Yet the Sun God poured out his 
 merciless brilliance upon them, and not even the 
 darkness of the night could cool the earth or bring 
 refreshment to the men. 
 
 "At last Council, the eldest and the wisest of the 
 medicine men, arose, and with the uplifted eyes and 
 face of the prophet, he spoke: Oh, Chief, it is for 
 thee to give thy most cherished treasure; thus ifstands 
 revealed that which thou worshipest in thine heart 
 more than the gods themselves. The chief lifted his 
 drawn, sun-scalded face, and asked, hoarsely: And 
 what is that, may I ask? Have I not sacrificed my 
 home and my stores ? My most cherished relics have 
 I offered and my body. He showed his lacerated 
 flesh and his bleeding hands. His emaciated limbs 
 and wasted body were as a spectre of a man long 
 dead, but Council spoke once more. Thou hast thy 
 daughter Nan-pen-ga, sister of the arrow. 
 
LEGEND OF THE ARROWHEAD 199 
 
 "Then the chief dropped his head upon his breast 
 and tears that were as fire drops burned his eyes. And 
 the other wise men all cried aloud, with hard, harsh 
 voices: It is true. The Sun God demands thy 
 daughter. Only that highest sacrifice will ever appease 
 his wrath. The chief sat long with bowed head. 
 Then he rose and descended the hill to the great, 
 gaunt, leafless sycamore, underneath which his 
 daughter and the women of the tribe lay with out 
 stretched arms, and in panting whispers were beseech 
 ing mercy for the people. The chief bent down and 
 touched his daughter s shoulder. She lifted her head 
 and met his eyes. Silently she rose and followed him 
 back up the hill to the circle of councilman. Here 
 is my daughter, my Nan-pen-ga. Do with her as the 
 gods direct, he said. Nay, the old men replied, 
 still standing, it is thy hand, oh Chief, that must save 
 the people. 
 
 "Nan-pen-ga, tall and straight and beautiful as the 
 dreams of youth, although the flesh of her rounded 
 limbs had been eaten up by hunger and the skin of her 
 face dried and darkened by the awful heat, looked at 
 the old men, then she turned a questioning eye upon 
 the grief-stricken face of her father. She understood. 
 She glanced upward to the cruel ball of fire that 
 glowed fiercely, exultingly in the heavens, then she 
 gazed across the barren, scorched waste where had 
 been the fair green valley of sheltered homes. She 
 threw back her long, unbound locks and said : Come, 
 
200 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 my father, I am glad if it is for me to appease the 
 wrath that destroys us. Come! 
 
 "The old chiefs rose and formed a circle; the young 
 braves came and brought dry sticks and built a pyre. 
 With his own hands the father bound the slender 
 wrists and ankles of his child and laid her upon the 
 cruel bed. Then he struck the spark from the flint 
 and watched the curling flame leap up to play with her 
 soft hair. As the smoke rose from the sacrificing fire, 
 it floated high and spread until it darkened the 
 heavens and shut out the ferocious glare of the sun. 
 The darkness grew denser and at last a dazzling flash 
 of light leaped out of the threatening cloud and a 
 deep reverberating peal of thunder rolled solemnly from 
 mountain to mountain. The people fell upon their 
 faces, shrieking in terror. Then the long pent up 
 waters descended. 
 
 "The sun-cracked earth swallowed them; the thirst- 
 parched Indians drank them down; the dry stream 
 beds caught them and swirled back full; the dusty 
 springs bubbled and foamed; the birds returned and 
 the animals crept forth to new life. 
 
 "When the earth had been drenched and was cool 
 and water-soaked, when at last the clouds lifted again 
 and rolled away above the mountain tops, the people 
 beheld blazed upon the mountain side, a great white 
 arrowhead. The old prophet gazed at the token thus 
 delivered, and then once more the insight of vision 
 was given to him. Behold/ he cried, pointing to the 
 emblem, it is a sign, a promise. Because of the 
 
LEGEND OF THE AEROWHEAD 201 
 
 sacrifice of Nan-pen-ga, sister of the arrow, never 
 again will the Sun God so devastate the land. Hence 
 forth perpetually shall flow the stream and murmur 
 the springs from this mountain side. The light died 
 out of his hollow eyes, the life died from his palsied 
 form, and the old seer sank to the earth to rise 
 no more." 
 
 Nawona told this tale with a dramatic intensity that 
 thrilled her little audience. When it was done she 
 lay quite still, and Philip, reaching over in the dark, 
 found the slender brown hand, raised it to his lips and 
 kissed it. 
 
 "Oh!" cried the girl, springing to her feet. 
 
 "What is it?" cried Alice. 
 
 "Nothing," Nawona replied, "nothing Senorita," 
 but she did not resume her place upon the blanket. 
 With down-dropped eyes, she sank upon the ground 
 beside El Estranjero and leaned wearily against his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "She has given me my answer," said Philip to 
 himself, and in a few minutes strolled out of the circle 
 of the firelight and making his camp near where Jose 
 had tethered the horses, soon slept, for even the pangs { 
 of disappointed love sometimes yield to the fatigue of 
 hearty youth. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 AN UNDERSTANDING 
 
 It was the morning of the last day in the mountains. 
 The travelers had been astir since daybreak, and now 
 the pack was made up, the horses ready, and the two 
 girls were in the saddle waiting the word to start. 
 
 El Estranjero had tightened the girth of Nawona s 
 saddle, and now had stepped to Alice s side and with 
 his hand upon her horse s mane stood, with his hat 
 in his hand, his forehead bared to the cool breeze. 
 As Alice looked down, his eyes were raised and met 
 hers and held their gaze. A long, long glance, in 
 which each seemed to forget for the moment the 
 barriers between them then Alice colored to the 
 roots of her hair, and giving her horse a sharp cut 
 with her quirt rode off, calling to Nawona : 
 
 "Come, let us see the sun rise from the ridge yonder, 
 while the others are getting ready." 
 
 El Estranjero felt as though the quirt had descended 
 upon his own spirit, and the tears rushed to Nawona s 
 eyes as she saw the look upon his face. Impulsively 
 she moved her horse toward him and put out her hand. 
 
 "Do not mind, Estranjero," she half whispered. 
 
 He raised the kind little hand to his lips, and Philip, 
 who had just turned from arranging the pack on the 
 pack horse, saw the action and noticed that Nawona 
 did not seem angry as she was the night before, when 
 
 [202] 
 
AN UNDERSTANDING 203 
 
 he had committed the same indiscretion, but that she 
 rode away smiling, and even turned to wave that same 
 coveted little hand to his rival. 
 
 Over the first range the sun was just rising, piercing 
 the translucent atmosphere with golden beams and 
 lighting up the nearer mountains and the distant 
 valley. The two girls watched the scene with delight, 
 their eyes taking in the glory of the mountain and 
 peaceful valley, and even the broad Pacific Ocean 
 beyond, all a part of this picture. 
 
 On a plateau, just at their feet, were two deer 
 playfully knocking their horns together in a mimic 
 battle, and far above the plain, in the distance, circled 
 the stately and graceful buzzard, the condor of the 
 northern hemisphere. It was almost with regret that 
 they turned at last to the trail that would take them 
 over the range to the Mountain Home and down the 
 winding course of a clear cool rivulet to the foothills 
 and the valley below and so home. 
 
 All through the morning the two girls rode, hardly 
 exchanging a word. Nawona was puzzling herself 
 over Alice s evident dislike for El Estranjero, and 
 Alice was blaming herself for an abruptness in which 
 she feared he saw her real feelings. Philip was glum, f| 
 El Estranjero abstracted, and only old Jose and 
 Mr. Holcomb were their usual cheerful selves. 
 
 When the party stopped at midday, and Jose was 
 gathering leaves and brushwood for a fire, Philip said 
 to Nawona, who was idly leaning against a tree 
 watching the preparations for the camp : 
 
204 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 "Nawona, have you ever made a fire without 
 matches ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, Senor," she responded, "that is easily 
 done." 
 
 "I have heard so," replied Philip, "but I have always 
 doubted it." 
 
 "Senor shall doubt no longer, but he must have 
 patience. Come and I will make fire without matches." 
 
 Glad that she had apparently forgiven his blunder 
 of the night before, he followed her as she selected two 
 dry sticks. Gathering some dead leaves, she squatted 
 on the ground, Philip at her side. With a swift twirly 
 motion, she rubbed the two sticks against each other 
 patiently and without ceasing for fully fifteen minutes, 
 when to Philip s great delight the dead leaves kindled 
 into a roaring flame. 
 
 "Let me see if I can do it," he said, and, gathering 
 some leaves and selecting two dry sticks, he began, 
 but he lacked the patience necessary for the test, and 
 Nawona laughed teasingly as he threw away the stick 
 with a pettish exclamation and answered her laugh 
 with his own. 
 
 Jose brought his brushwood to their blaze, and while 
 the dinner was being cooked, Philip s step kept pace 
 almost unconsciously with Nawona s, as she strolled 
 down to a little stream upon the bank of which she 
 knelt and bathed her flushed face and dabbled her 
 ! brown hands in the water. 
 
 Alice had watched them trifling with the dry 
 
AN UNDERSTANDING 205 
 
 sticks, and discreetly kept her distance as she saw 
 them pass under the trees. 
 
 "Poor Laddie," she said to herself, "he knows he 
 is riding for a fall, but let him enjoy himself while 
 he can." 
 
 Philip noticed with delight Nawona s total absence 
 of self-consciousness while she made her simple toilet, 
 and then he wondered why she should so resent his 
 impulse of the night before. He resolved while she 
 was in a relenting mood toward him to make what 
 explanation he could. 
 
 It seemed hard to find a way to begin, but at last 
 Nawona ceased dabbling her hands in the water, and 
 sat looking almost pensively down the way they had 
 just come. 
 
 "Is Nawona sad?" Philip inquired. 
 
 "A little, Senor. These mountains are the home S^ ; 
 I have so long known. I go from them out into a 
 world that is new and strange." 
 
 "There are many kind hearts there, Nawona." 
 
 "Yes, Senor, I know there must be, for already I 
 have found so much kindness." 
 
 "Then you should cheer up, Nawona ; you will soon 
 know the ways of the world, and," a little bitterly, 
 "you will learn to hide your feelings, to say yes when 
 you mean no and no when you mean yes, and be 
 like the rest of them." 
 
 "But why should I do that, Senor? My tongue is 
 not crooked nor my heart dark. I will say what 
 mean." 
 
206 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "Do you do that now?" 
 
 "Always, Sefior," she replied, opening her eyes 
 widely at him in an astonishment that made her look 
 almost childish. 
 
 "Good, then," said Philip, "then you must say it 
 now. Do you hate me, Nawona?" 
 
 "I hate you?" said the startled girl. 
 
 "But do you?" he persisted. 
 
 "Oh, no, and again no," she said earnestly, clasp 
 ing her hands and pressing them tightly over her 
 heart. 
 
 "Oh, Senor Philip, how unhappy am I if I have 
 made you think me so wicked. Who was it that 
 saved me from death in the desert? Who was it that 
 brought me over the many weary miles to his people ? 
 I hate you? Oh! Senor, no, no." 
 
 And she pressed her hands suddenly to her face, and 
 broke into sobs. 
 
 "I am a brute," said Philip in disgust with himself; 
 "I am a clumsy brute, Nawona. There, there, little 
 one." He attempted to remove her hands, but Nawona 
 wept all the more freely. 
 
 "Poor little girl," said Philip, "Stop! stop! or by 
 Jove, I ll jump into the water and drown myself." 
 
 This brought Nawona s hands down at once, and 
 she looked at him through her tears with terror. 
 
 "Senor!" she cried, but Philip could stand no 
 more. He gathered her into his arms and kissed the 
 tear-stained face, the curling hair, the slender hands. 
 ,"Nawona, wild rose of the desert," he whispered, 
 
 
 
AN UNDERSTANDING 
 
 207 
 
 "I am sick with loving you. All these long days and 
 nights I have so hungered to hold you here that I 
 must just this once, even if you should hate me for 
 doing so. Oh, Nawona, I love you, I love you. 
 Surely your heart tells you what love is, though you 
 know nothing of the ways of the world; love is the 
 way of life." 
 
 Nawona hid her face against him and wept again. 
 
 "Oh, little Nawona/ Philip pleaded, "I have grieved 
 and frightened you, and now you weep and hide your 
 face from me. But weep there, little one, and I wish / 
 that all your sorrows all your life might be wept out 
 always here upon my heart, but I know whom you 
 love, Nawona, and he is a better man than myself, 
 nobler in every way and worthy." 
 
 At this Nawona raised her head and looked at 
 Philip. 
 
 "Of whom does Sefior speak?" she said wonderingly. 
 
 " Of whom does he speak/ you little coquette," he 
 said almost angrily, holding her at arm s length and 
 gazing into her wet eyes. "Of whom else but of 
 El Estranjero? You are his shadow. To him you 
 flee if I but touch your hand; to him you talk for 
 hours, when to me you give only the shortest sentences 
 with downcast eyes." 
 
 "Surely," Nawona answered, "the Sefior does not 
 think that I love El Estranjero other than as in place 
 of the father that lies buried in the desert sand." 
 
 "Nawona!" cried Philip, joyfully, drawing her to 
 him again, "is that the truth?" 
 
208 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "Did I not tell the Senor that Nawona speaks 
 always truly?" 
 
 "Then, Nawona, tell me instantly what you think 
 of me/ cried the impetuous Philip. 
 
 The girl cast down her eyes, a rosy blush stealing 
 to her temples. 
 
 "Speak to me, Nawona." 
 
 Still she said nothing, but now she struggled to free 
 herself from him. 
 
 "Let me go, Senor," she almost whispered. 
 
 Philip grew white now and his voice was almost 
 solemn. 
 
 "Nawona," he said, lifting her face so that she was 
 compelled to look at him, "do you think you could 
 love me?" 
 
 Still no answer. 
 
 "Tell me, Nawona, Yes or No?" 
 
 "But, Senor, Senorita Alice?" 
 
 "Well, what of Alice?" 
 
 "Have I not seen you kiss her and hold her as one 
 holds a sweetheart?" 
 
 "Never," denied Philip, hotly. 
 
 "Why, Senor Philip, when she came the first time !" 
 
 "Oh," he said, much relieved, "do you not know 
 that Alice and I grew up in the same house like brother 
 and sister, that we are own blood cousins ? That s the 
 reason I kissed her." 
 
 "So?" breathed Nawona. 
 
 "And now, Nawona," said Philip, a new serious 
 ness in his manner, "I may have taken an unfair 
 
AN UNDEKSTANDING 209 
 
 advantage of you; I presume I have. You will see 
 many men, many who are better looking and better 
 in every way than I am. It was wrong of me to talk 
 to you as I have, and I am ashamed of myself. I will 
 wait until you see others. I will give you time to 
 know yourself. Forgive me, Nawona. Yes, you 
 may go." And he released her and turned away 
 gloomily. 
 
 He thought she had gone, and sinking down upon 
 the grass was staring into the water. Suddenly he 
 felt a breath upon his cheek, then Nawona s blushing 
 face was bent to his, her red lips pressed his forehead. 
 
 "Philip," she breathed softly, "if I should see all 
 the world of men, I should love only you." Before 
 he could say a word or raise his hand to stay her, 
 she was speeding back to the camp. 
 
CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 THE LAST NIGHT IN CAMP 
 
 Alice was sound asleep when Nawona reached the 
 camp, and the girl sat down demurely, glad that her 
 kindly eyes were not on the alert to notice her 
 excitement. Sitting there, her cheeks gradually cooled 
 and her pulses steadied, so that when Alice, after a 
 half hour, sleepily opened her eyes, yawned, and sat 
 up, Nawona could smile at her with all her usual 
 composure. 
 
 Alice wondered what Philip had said to the girl, but 
 had no suspicion of the real state of things. Philip 
 and Nawona each by a tacit agreement, made in a 
 swift glance as they sat down to partake of the viands 
 Jose had prepared, had agreed to keep their secret. 
 Philip had looked questioningly toward Alice, but 
 i Nawona had shaken her head slightly, and Philip 
 understood. This was to be their own sweet secret, 
 j cherished together and kept from others. 
 
 With a lover s selfishness, he quite forgot his sus 
 picions that Alice loved El Estranjero, and that a 
 word from him might straighten the tangle in her 
 mind. He had thought only of himself and Nawona,, 
 and his thoughts lent wings of joy to his feet as he 
 toiled over the trail that afternoon. 
 
 At sunset they reached the first plateau above the 
 ^ plain. Philip was in the van and the others following, 
 
 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN CAMP 211 
 
 Indian file. The valley below lay stretched out before 
 them in all its beauty. From this point the mountains 
 could be seen from the foot of Old Baldy to the 
 snow-covered top of San Jacinto, while to the west, 
 in the peaceful glow and under the magic touch of the 
 setting sun, lay the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 As they gazed upon this scene of loveliness, all 
 were impressed as never before with a sense of 
 gratitude that they had been permitted to live in a 
 country of such surpassing grandeur. Best of all were 
 these gray old mountains, whose summits pierced the 
 sky, standing as a steady bulwark between desert and 
 valley, guarding the beauty of the one from the 
 blighting breath of the other. 
 
 As night came on, the travelers turned reluctantly 
 away from this entrancing scene to seek a convenient 
 place for their camp, and in a short time the horses 
 were picketed and the party assembled about the 
 camp fire. 
 
 Alice s mind was full of the beauty of that day s 
 journey. She thought of the lights and shadows cast 
 by the afternoon sun beneath the oaks and pines, 
 with all the varying tints of the forest scene, and these 
 blending together in her pleasing reverie made a 
 picture never to be forgotten. 
 
 "Is there any one," she thought, "who has partaken 
 of the tonic of an outdoor life in these beautiful 
 mountains who is ever perfectly contented to again 
 assume the duties and obligations demanded by society? 
 
ESTBANJERO 
 
 I, for one, would much rather listen to these whispering 
 pines than to hear the most ravishing music." 
 
 This was their very last night; after to-morrow, 
 perhaps, everything would be different. Their little 
 company had been ideally congenial, they had come so 
 close to one another s souls in this wilderness, but 
 to-morrow 
 
 "Daddy," Alice said, putting her arms about her 
 father, and leaning upon his breast, as he sat by the 
 fire after supper, "Daddy, let s live up here in the 
 woods all the time." 
 
 "Why, Lassie, what an idea!" 
 
 "Yes, Daddy, let s stay up here and be happy, and 
 not go down there in the valley where we have to sleep 
 under roofs and eat at tables, and " she laughed as 
 she looked down at her soiled and crumpled riding 
 dress, "and wear clothes. Daddy, I ve never been so 
 happy before in all my life. Let s stay up here in the 
 woods." 
 
 "I am glad you ve enjoyed it, Lassie. By rights 
 you should have had all sorts of trials, and should 
 have been sorry a thousand times that you did not stay 
 at home, as Daddy said you must." And he pinched 
 her ear playfully. 
 
 "Well, this night must be a happy one, the very 
 best of all. Daddy, you trot out the best story you 
 know, and to-night," she playfully menaced him with 
 her slender forefinger, "to-night, Sefior Daddy, the 
 story must be one that none of us has ever before 
 heard." 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN CAMP 
 
 213 
 
 "Dear me, what a dragon of a daughter," laughed 
 her father. Then he cudgeled his brain. "Ah, I have 
 it, but I can t tell you the story till Jose gets through." 
 
 They sat chatting about the fire till Jose, having 
 finished his task, took his blanket a couple of hundred 
 feet away, near where the horses were picketed, and 
 lay down for the night. 
 
 "Now, Daddy, begin," said Alice, and Holcomb 
 related the following: 
 
 "D(o you see that clump of trees at the point of the 
 hill over there?" 
 
 They all looked and confessed they could see it. 
 
 "Well, about fifteen years ago, I heard that Seth 
 Holbrook had been hurt in a mine accident, and I 
 was riding up to see him. It was nearly dark when 
 I reached that point, and I quickened my pace into a 
 canter. At that moment a sharp report rang out on 
 the still night air, and a bullet whizzed so close to me 
 that it chipped a piece from the pommel of my saddle. 
 Frightened by the report or irritated by the touch of 
 the spur, Black Bess took the bit between her teeth 
 and bolted toward the mountain. It was some minutes 
 before I could pull her down to a respectable canter, 
 and by that time I had reached Holbrook s cabin. I 
 found him suffering with a badly sprained ankle, 
 some scalp wounds, and other minor bruises, but with 
 no serious injuries. Convinced that he would be out in 
 a few days, I mounted my horse, feeling comfortable in 
 the thought that I would yet get home in time for a 
 good night s rest. The incident of the rifle shot had 
 
214 
 
 EL ESTKANJERO 
 
 almost passed out of my mind before I again reached 
 the point where it had occurred. There remained in 
 my mind only a feeling of curiosity to know who had 
 fired the shot, and the reason for the action. 
 
 "I slowed up to a walk as I passed the clump of 
 trees, and was about to quicken my pace to a gallop 
 when I thought I heard a groan. I stopped a moment 
 and listened intently, at the same time drawing my 
 revolver, ready to defend myself if need be. 
 
 "That instant I heard another groan, and this time it 
 was unmistakable, and sounded as though it came 
 from a person in distress. I located the sound as 
 coming from the foot of a dead pine tree standing 
 about one hundred feet from the road opposite where 
 I had stopped. The shadow of the hill was over the 
 ground about the tree, and I could see nothing at all. 
 My first thought was to ride on, as it seemed to me that 
 the person who fired the shot might be trying to decoy 
 me from the road for the purpose of robbery; or it 
 might be Indians. 
 
 "On second thought, however, I determined to in 
 vestigate this strange proceeding, as my feelings would 
 not allow me to go home without at least attempting 
 to succor some one who might be in distress. 
 
 "I started on as though going home, riding about 
 thirty or forty rods before I drew rein ; then I tied my 
 horse behind a little clump of bushes, and taking my 
 revolver in my right hand, crept carefully along in the 
 j shadow toward the place where I had heard the 
 groaning, stopping every few feet to listen for foot- 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN CAMP 
 
 215 
 
 steps. I was determined not to be caught in any trap 
 or ambush, and was consequently exceedingly alert 
 for anything that I might see or, more likely, hear, 
 as it was now quite dark. 
 
 "I soon came near enough again to hear the groan 
 ing, and moving still more quietly and carefully, I 
 came within sight of some one lying on the ground, 
 who appeared to be badly hurt and wholly unable to 
 move. He had evidently heard me coming even before 
 I could see him, for he spoke to me almost before I 
 made out what he was, and begged me to help him. 
 He spoke to me as a Mestizo and the substance of what 
 he said I remember very well. 
 
 " I don t know who you are, he said, in a tremulous 
 and weak voice, but I have fallen from this tree, and 
 have broken my leg, and I think I have broken my back. 
 Oh, God ! I have suffered terribly lying here ; won t you 
 help me, stranger? 
 
 ; Who are you ? I asked, and how came you 
 in this plight? 
 
 " Tor heaven s sake help me out of this first, and I 
 will tell you everything afterwards. I can t live many 
 hours and I suffer so; help me, for Christ s sake. 
 
 "I told him to lie still, and I would try to assist him. 
 I started back toward my horse with the thought in 
 mind that I might be able to place him on my horse 
 and in this manner get him to the pueblo. But upon 
 reflection I concluded that this would be impossible 
 with a man so badly injured as he seemed to be, and 
 before reaching my horse I had determined to 
 
216 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 straight to the village and get assistance. All of the 
 way I was turning over the events of the evening and 
 trying to arrive at some conclusion about this wounded 
 man, wondering if it were really he who had fired the 
 shot, and how he happened to be up in the tree. In 
 this way my mind was busy in speculations until I 
 arrived in front of a house. Here I found assistance 
 and made preparations to return to the aid of the 
 wounded man. 
 
 "We procured a spring wagon that would ride as 
 comfortably as any that could be found in the pueblo, 
 and placing bed springs in the bottom of the wagon 
 and a mattress and some bed quilts on top of them, I 
 got a doctor to bring his surgical instruments and we 
 drove back hurriedly for the wounded man. . 
 
 "There was no doubt that the man was badly hurt 
 and suffering terrible pain, but was he a criminal 
 with criminal intent frustrated by some accident, and 
 did he have accomplices against whom we must guard 
 ourselves ? 
 
 "These and other questions we asked ourselves but 
 could not reply to them. While I had been somewhat 
 nervous when alone, I had no such feeling in the 
 company of these tried and trusty men and felt sure 
 that no robber or band of robbers would attack three 
 well-armed men, fully on their guard. 
 
 "We found the Mexican exactly where I had left 
 him, with no indication that he had moved an inch, 
 nor did we get trace of any other man who might have 
 acted as his accomplice. 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN CAMP 217 
 
 "We lifted him into the wagon as carefully as we 
 could, but he suffered terrible agony until he fainted. 
 This period of fainting lasted until we had nearly 
 reached the pueblo, and it was a great relief to us 
 when we were not obliged to witness his intense 
 suffering. 
 
 "After reaching home and placing our patient in 
 bed, I was glad to go to bed myself and take a little 
 rest, as I had passed through a very strenuous day in 
 more ways than one, and had not had a wink of sleep 
 the night before. 
 
 "Weeks afterward, when the Mexican had suffi 
 ciently recovered to converse on the subject, I asked 
 him the cause of his fall from the tree, and was a good 
 deal surprised at the story he told me. 
 
 "It seems that the year previous he was one of a 
 band of sheep shearers that made it a business to go 
 from place to place and shear sheep belonging to the 
 ranchers in that neighborhood. This occupation had 
 been followed so long that these men had become ex 
 pert in the work, and, as I have stated, traveled from 
 place to place in company, and were known as the 
 shearing gang. A strong friendship had sprung up 
 between the members of this gang, and in a moment 
 of enthusiasm, caused by a plentiful supply of red 
 wine furnished by some friendly rancher, they had 
 sworn to stand by each other if at any time they 
 were in trouble with the authorities. 
 
 "It happened that at the time these men came to 
 Elevado to shear the sheep, this Mexican and his. 
 
218 
 
 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 brother had come with them, and engaged in that work. 
 The brother got into some trouble with a tipsy half- 
 breed Indian and it ended by his striking the Indian 
 with his dirk knife. He was immediately put under 
 arrest and given a preliminary examination. I hap 
 pened to be the magistrate before whom the case was 
 brought, and as the prosecution had made a good 
 showing, I bound this man over to the grand jury. 
 
 "By this time the band of sheep shearers had gone 
 to some other point for work, but had left the Mexican 
 to assist his brother to regain his freedom. 
 Laboring under the crazy notion that my death would 
 in some way bring about the release of his imprisoned 
 brother, he conceived the idea of waylaying and dis 
 posing of me. 
 
 "Learning in some way that I was to pay a visit 
 to the prospector, he had gone to the point that I have 
 shown you, and climbing into that tree, fired at me, 
 and, as I have already said, came very near getting 
 me. His fall was, of course, accidental, but it made 
 a change in the man s whole nature. All his idea of 
 revenge was gone, and his feeling toward me was 
 changed from one of resentment to one of respect, 
 and finally to that of affection. I took him into my 
 service at home as soon as he was able to work, and 
 he has been with me ever since." 
 
 "You don t mean Jose, do you, Father?" asked 
 Alice. "I have never heard you mention it before, and 
 did not dream while you were relating the story that 
 it was Jose." 
 
THE LAST NIGHT IN CAMP 219 
 
 "Well, it is true that Jose was the Mexican, but it 
 seemed better that the story should not be known, at 
 that time at any rate, and we kept it to ourselves. 
 He has been a faithful and affectionate servant, and 
 we have all learned to love him very much." 
 
 "What became of his brother?" asked Philip. 
 
 "He was found guilty of assault and battery only, 
 although the Indian died, and he served a jail sentence 
 of one year," was Holcomb s reply. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 IN THE VALLEY 
 
 It was a perfect morning, and our travelers lingered 
 in this beautiful spot, loath to leave the mountains. 
 Often they stayed their steps to view the inspiring 
 panorama of hill and dale, mountain and valley, spread 
 out before them. 
 
 The hearts of Philip and Nawona sang like the 
 birds. The shy and happy glances of the girl seldom 
 sought those of her lover, so new was her revelation 
 of love, and so fearful was she that she might have 
 been overbold, that she kept at Alice s side, and per 
 versely directed her conversation toward any one 
 rather than Philip. 
 
 The young man, however, understood her bashful- 
 ness, and endured her caprice, knowing in that long 
 day s journey he would have many occasions for a 
 w 7 ord or a pressure of the little hand. 
 
 It was late afternoon when the cavalcade drew rein 
 before the house built around three sides of a square. 
 The day had been one of delight. The fragrance of 
 the chaparral and sage filled the air, now blowing cool 
 and sweet from the ocean. October was waning 
 to its close. Fleecy white clouds floating in the sky 
 gave promise of the vivifying rains that soon would 
 < call forth the verdure from the brown bosom of the 
 
IN THE VALLEY 
 
 earth, when the mountains would wrap their mantles 
 of snow about them. 
 
 Francesca and Juan welcomed them at the door, and 
 Alice led Nawona into the house. Reared as she had 
 been among savage surroundings, this home in the 
 valley was a revelation to the girl, the wooden house 
 with its many rooms a palace, the piano a magical 
 instrument, the pictures upon the wall undreamed of 
 beauty, the comfort and order so strange to her- that 
 she felt lost and bewildered. 
 
 Philip led her from room to room, showing her 
 this thing and that and explaining their uses, while 
 Alice gave Francesca directions in domestic matters; 
 but the girl was speechless and amazed, and at last, as 
 they stood again in the simple living room, she turned 
 toward Philip a grieved and puzzled face. 
 
 "Oh, Senor," she said, "I am not fit to live in such 
 a wonderful house. I am so clumsy and untaught and 
 out of place." 
 
 The tears were in her eyes and her lips were quiver 
 ing. Philip put his arms around her and gently drew 
 her toward him. 
 
 "Nawona, my beloved," he said softly, "in a week 
 you will be as much at home in this house as though 
 you had always been accustomed to these things. Your 
 home, dear one, is here upon my heart, and in a little 
 while we two will build a nest and mate, and I will 
 sing like the mocking bird out there, from the very 
 gladness of our love. Look up, little maid, and take 
 courage." 
 
 15 
 
222 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 She raised her eyes to his, and their lips met in a 
 long kiss of innocent love, and Alice, who came 
 through the door at the moment, stopped, and for an 
 instant was dumb with astonishment at what she saw. 
 Then she flew to Philip and laid her hand upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "I d just like you to explain yourself," she said, 
 giving him a little shake. 
 
 He dropped one arm which was wrapped about 
 Nawona, and took Alice too in his embrace. 
 
 "Do you really think," he said, "that I need to 
 make an explanation?" 
 
 Nawona was standing with downcast eyes, her face 
 suffused with blushes. 
 
 "Oh, Philip!" she whispered. 
 
 "Yes," laughed Alice, " Oh, Philip! I see just 
 how it is. You little brown bird," she said, throwing 
 her arms about Nawona s neck and kissing her 
 heartily. "I am so glad! So glad! Now, Mr. Philip,-^ 
 I shall take her away and I shall be a very dragon of 
 a chaperon. You shall not monopolize her, sir, and 
 shall be the most discreet of lovers, for Nawona has 
 much to learn before she can be given to you, and I 
 am not going to have her education interfered with 
 by too much philandering." 
 
 Alice laughed at the consternation with which Philip 
 heard this declaration, but she nevertheless took the 
 young girl s hand and led her to her own room. 
 
 The muslin curtains, the white bed, the easy chairs 
 with their covers of flowered chintz, and the trifles 
 
IN THE VAL 
 
 scattered about that girls love, filled Nawona with 
 such amazement that when Alice pushed one of the 
 chairs forward she sat down, upon the floor instead. 
 
 "No, Senorita, I am not fit," she protested, with a 
 gesture toward her deer-skin garments, now sadly 
 frayed and soiled. 
 
 "Nawona," said Alice, "I am no longer Senorita 
 to you. I am Alice, your dear sister," and she knelt 
 on the floor beside her, and slipped an arm about her 
 waist. "I love you very much, Nawona, and I am 
 so glad that you care for Philip. He told me about 
 his love for you the very first day I came to camp, and 
 I was afraid that he was to suffer, for I thought you 
 had set your heart upon another." 
 
 Nawona smiled into her eyes. 
 
 "And, oh, Alice, how unhappy was I, for I thought 
 Philip loved you." 
 
 "So he does, as a sister," Alice said. "And now, 
 Nawona, you just rest here," tucking some cushions 
 behind the girl s shoulders, "and in a few minutes I 
 shall make you over, so you will not know yourself." 
 
 Alice had, adjoining her bedroom, a luxury quite 
 unusual in those days of the pueblo, a tiny bathroom, 
 with a tin bathtub, painted white, and plain but com 
 fortable fittings. She left the door ajar as she turned 
 on the water, and the marvel of Nawona on hearing 
 the sound of flowing water in the house was so great 
 that she tiptoed to the door to see it ; then returned to 
 her cushions, wondering at this new piece of magic. 
 
 Imagine your own feelings on being suddenly 
 
224 
 
 EL ESTEANJEBO 
 
 transported from the life of the wilderness to that of 
 civilization even the civilization of that day, which 
 we now regard as primitive and you may gain some 
 idea of the feelings and emotions of the young white 
 girl now restored to her own proper surroundings. 
 
 She looked at the dressing table, with its array of 
 silver brushes and articles of the toilet, with the curi 
 osity of a little child, and as she turned she caught a 
 glimpse of herself in a mirror, that made her look 
 about her quickly, thinking there was some little brown 
 maid standing behind the dressing case. 
 
 Then she arose and softly went forward. The image 
 moved as she moved, smiled when she smiled, stretched 
 forth its hand as she stretched forth hers. It was 
 amusing to watch her, as Alice was doing from a 
 crack of the door, as she gestured and postured. She 
 had seen tiny mirrors that had been bartered with the 
 traders, but nothing like this, that gave a view of the 
 whole body. True, many a time she had seen her 
 image in pool and stream , but it was not the perfect 
 living, breathing self like this. 
 
 Alice gave her plenty of time to examine the dif 
 ferent articles in the room. At last when she had 
 touched the soft chairs with her hands to note their 
 springiness and the unreality of the flowers upon their 
 covers, when she had turned the brushes about 
 and gazed curiously at books and pictures, she sunk 
 down again upon the carpeted floor, and with a luxuri 
 ous sigh of content, settled herself among the cushions. 
 Alice now came out, shining and sweet from her bath. 
 
IN THE VALLEY 
 
 225 
 
 A loose gown of deep rose color trailed about her, and 
 her long golden hair was unbound. She stood a 
 moment looking down upon the little brown face 
 upturned to hers. 
 
 "Oh, Alice!" cried Nawona, clasping her hands in 
 delight, "you are most beautiful and splendid. I did 
 not think any woman could ever look like that." 
 
 "Nawona, come here, and I will show you some 
 thing." She led the way into the bathroom. "See, 
 now I have turned on the water; wait, and the tub 
 will soon be full." 
 
 When the tub was filled, she said : "Now, little 
 girl, off with your clothes. There is soap and here is 
 a brush. Now rub the soap thus upon the brush, and 
 scrub every inch of that little person of yours. Then 
 when you are through, and are clean and fresh, dry 
 yourself well with the towels, and put this on," holding 
 up a long loose robe the color and shape of the one 
 she wore, "and come out to me and I will make you 
 beautiful." 
 
 While Nawona was carrying out these directions, 
 Alice arranged her hair, and dressed herself in a soft 
 gray woolen house gown, with a band of lace at her , 
 neck and wrists. From out her store of dresses, she 
 selected one that she had worn at school when she 
 was a girl of fourteen. This, she thought, would fit -\ 
 the slender Nawona to perfection. It was pale blue, 
 made with the utmost simplicity, and without the least 
 garnishing. At the neck and wrists Alice basted a 
 soft strip of lace like that she herself wore, and after 
 
 - 
 
226 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 / v* // 
 
 lM 
 
 
 
 selecting undergarments that she had worn when the 
 dress fitted her, and that had long lain done up in 
 lavender, she took from the drawer of her dresser 
 a wide silk ribbon the color of the dress, as a sash 
 for the waist, and a narrower ribbon of the same hue 
 as a snood for Nawona s brown hair, and waited in 
 some impatience for the girl s appearance. 
 
 As Nawona was astonished at Alice s beauty, so the 
 wonder of the quaint and dainty loveliness of this 
 maiden of the wild grew upon Alice as she robed her 
 from head to foot. 
 
 When she had finished and Nawona stood before 
 her, the long curling brown hair had been combed and 
 brushed and fell in soft waves almost to her slender 
 waist. Alice parted it in the middle, and bound it 
 with a blue ribbon. Over the collar of fair white lace, 
 the beautiful rose-tinted brown face, with its full red 
 lips, and the clear azure of the long-lashed eyes, was 
 like some old-time picture. 
 
 "Oh, Nawona, you darling, step out here into the 
 full light and look at yourself," she cried. 
 
 As Nawona came forward, Alice gave a little cry 
 of dismay. Nawona stopped in surprise, and glanced 
 at her inquiringly. 
 
 "Your feet," cried Alice, "Oh, Nawona, your feet!" 
 
 Nawona stuck one of her white feet out from under 
 the blue gown. 
 
 "Yes, Alice, my feet. They are all right, see." 
 
 "But you must have shoes and stockings," Alice 
 cried, "I had quite forgotten them." 
 
IN THE VALLEY 227 
 
 She dived into the trunk from which she had taken 
 the other garments, and after some delving into its 
 depths, brought out a pair of little black slippers, with 
 shining steel buckles, and some blue silk stockings. 
 
 "Sit down here, my child," she laughed, "and I will 
 show you how to wear civilized foot coverings." 
 
 In a few minutes the toilet was completed, and Alice, 
 full of glee over the surprise in store for Philip, said : 
 
 "Now wait here, Nawona, and when you hear me 
 whistle, then come." 
 
 Philip was on the veranda. 
 
 "Turn your back to the door, sir, this minute," she 
 called to him. Instinctively he obeyed. 
 
 "Now you stand there and look straight ahead." 
 Then she whistled, and as Nawona appeared in the 
 doorway, she turned Philip about. 
 
 He stood staring and bewildered for a minute, 
 gazing at the lovely picture, and then taking Nawona s 
 hands in his led her to the seat in the patio under the 
 rose bush, and there Alice left them together in the 
 dusk. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 PHILOSOPHY BY THE WAY 
 
 Neither El Estranjero nor Mr. Holcomb appeared 
 at the supper table, and Alice found that Gardiner had 
 been waiting at the ranch for a couple of days for 
 their return, and that he desired to make some sort of 
 a journey upon which he wished to consult them. 
 
 It was quite dark, when her father and El Estranjero 
 appeared upon the veranda. Much to her surprise 
 El Estranjero still wore the clothes he used for moun 
 tain travel. He had his gun in his hand, and his full 
 knapsack upon his back. 
 
 Nawona sat beside Alice, and in the dusk her 
 transformation did not strike Estranjero as it had 
 Philip, in fact, he hardly noticed it. Alice s former 
 mood of gayety had passed, and now, sad and silent, 
 she was looking out into the night. Philip was busied 
 unrolling and putting away the articles that had been 
 in his pack upon the journey just ended. 
 
 At the moment Estranjero appeared, Juan came 
 around the corner of the house leading the burro that 
 the Indians had found upon the desert. Upon the 
 animal s back was a huge pack, and it was followed by 
 a horse, similarly packed, and then Gardiner came 
 // from the shadows, his gun in his hand, and stood at 
 the foot of the steps as if waiting for some one. 
 
 [228] 
 
PHILOSOPHY BY THE WAY 229 
 
 As he approached Mr. Holcomb was speaking ear 
 nestly to El Estranjero. "J uan can go with you," he 
 was saying, "and if anything should happen and you 
 need assistance of any kind from the valley, he can 
 be sent back with news." Alice rose to her feet. So 
 he was going away again, this time apparently on 
 another long and dangerous journey. What could it 
 be? But El Estranjero was speaking. 
 
 "I am sure we shall need no help, but we are glad 
 to have Juan. We certainly will return before Christ 
 mas at the very longest." 
 
 "Christmas," Alice was saying to herself in dismay, 
 as she pressed her hands over her heart. "He was 
 to be gone, then, for two months. Would he go 
 without a word!" 
 
 Nawona was sorry, now, that she had not told 
 El Estranjero her secret, but still, when he came 
 back it would be time. He bent and kissed her on 
 the forehead, as if it were the most natural thing in 
 the world to do. 
 
 "Good-bye, Nawona," he said, "I expect you to be 
 quite an elegant young lady by the time I come back. 
 Good-bye, Alice." She laid her cold and nerveless 
 hand in his and said farewell in a voice so low he 
 hardly heard it. 
 
 "Oh, Alice, Alice," El Estranjero said to himself. 
 "Why are you so cold to me ? What have I done that 
 you should hate me? I know you love Philip, but 
 why should you treat me as though I were the dirt 
 beneath your feet?" 
 
230 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 "Oh, Estranjero," said Alice s heart, "how shall I 
 bear the agony of these long days and nights, when 
 you are gone to who knows what danger, and maybe 
 death?" 
 
 "Come," cried Gardiner, "I want to be out of the 
 valley before the moon rises. We can t afford to 
 have any one following us." 
 
 Estranjero said a hasty word of good-bye to Philip, 
 and then the night swallowed him and his companions. 
 
 "Where are they going?" asked Philip. 
 
 "My boy," was Holcomb s reply, "this is to be a 
 secret expedition, and I warn you all to say nothing 
 about it. . Gardiner learned from a prospector that 
 he found dying on the mountain, with whom he staid 
 till the last and later buried, of a rich gold mine in 
 the Indian country. He and El Estranjero are going, 
 with Juan, to locate the mine. Gardiner has been here 
 ready and waiting for two days. He wanted me to 
 go, too, but I grub-staked El Senor and remained at 
 home, for I am tired with this journey and have many 
 things to attend to here." 
 
 Thus El Estranjero, but an hour returned from his 
 campaign in the mountains, was again upon his way 
 into the wilderness. He had been glad of this |j 
 opportunity to leave the pueblo for a time, 
 before his return he could conquer this weakness __. 
 Alice, that was robbing his nights of rest and his days v 
 of peace. By the time he returned, perhaps, she and 
 Philip would be married, and knowing that she was 
 
 !;. lost to him beyond recall, and his heart-wound healed 
 
 >( t 
 
 - -x. i 
 
PHILOSOPHY BY THE 
 
 , . t 
 
 a little by time and separation from her, he could look 
 life in the face more bravely. 
 
 Gardiner and Juan were in high spirits as they 
 commenced the long tramp which had for its object 
 a purpose so uncertain and dangerous that it partook^ 
 of the nature of an adventure, and was therefore none 
 the less attractive to these hardy and brave souls. 
 
 As they journeyed along the road to the mountains 
 they passed the battle ground where in the darkness 
 of the night, weeks before, had taken place the struggle 
 between the whites and the Indians. They camped 
 upon the first plateau, and the next morning, under the 
 influence of a perfect day all went on with light hearts. 
 
 As they trudged along together, Gardiner, who was 
 something of a philosopher, made conversation with 
 El Estranjero. 
 
 "I tell you what, Senor," he said, "I was born three 
 hundred years too late. If I had been born at the 
 right time, I could have lived a life in the wilderness, 
 like Robin Hood, and have been happy." 
 
 Estranjero smiled. "I should not care to be a Robin 
 Hood any where else but in Southern California, the 
 paradise of the world." 
 
 Gardiner pondered this a moment and then with an 
 assenting nod continued. 
 
 "I shall never be able to understand how so many 
 people can live in large cities without room to breathe, 
 rubbing elbows with arrogant wealth on the one side 
 and distressing poverty on the other, when they can 
 breathe the pure atmosphere of a country like this, 
 
232 
 
 EL ESTKANJEKO 
 
 with everything to charm the senses and promote 
 health and vigor." 
 
 "We may secure some arrogant wealth ourselves, 
 if we have good luck," said Estranjero, thinking at 
 the same instant that if Alice should turn a kindly ear 
 to him, if Alice only were heart-free, what wealth, 
 such as they thought to secure, might mean to him. 
 
 "I do not often talk much about an out-door life," 
 Estranjero continued, "for the reason that I am con 
 scious of no other and know little of the life of a 
 crowded city. Anything else but the freedom of these 
 grand old mountains and this wide spreading desert 
 would be a prison to me, yet civilization surely has 
 its advantage." 
 
 "Advantages," said Gardiner with scorn. "I 
 would not change my own way of living if I could 
 gain all the advantages and comforts of a life of 
 luxury in the city. It seems to me that those living 
 ./ there pay too much for what they get. If we were to 
 I go right on living forever, and could use the advan 
 tages gained by strife and hurry, then I could under 
 stand the benefits of such a life. But existence here 
 is too short for such a struggle and we cannot carry 
 the hard-won advantages away with us. Now look 
 at Juan there. Like all the Indians of his kind, he 
 lives in a thriftless sort of way with no concern for 
 the morrow, but enjoying every moment of the present 
 and is not torn, from the cradle to the grave, with the 
 greed and passion of high life." 
 
 "Juan," called Estranjero to the Indian who was 
 
 V\\\ 
 
PHILOSOPHY BY THE WAY 
 
 233 
 
 plodding beside the burro. "Juan, what do you want 
 most in the world?" Juan looked at the speaker in 
 some perplexity, as he meditatively scratched his head. 
 
 "A cigarette, Senor," he answered. 
 
 "Nothing else?" 
 
 "Nothing, Senor, I am not hungry." 
 
 "Ah," said the philosopher, as they resumed their 
 march. "You see I am right. The Indian s heed- 
 lessness often makes him go hungry, but hunger gives 
 him an appetite for what he does get. But they are 
 like the leaves falling from the trees before the frosts 
 of winter. The onward rush of the white man is 
 sweeping them to the happy hunting ground and in 
 a few years they will be gone and the places that 
 know them now will know them no more forever." 
 
 "I suppose they will enjoy their endless sleep, too," 
 smiled El Estranjero, "for next to smoking and 
 eating, Juan loves sleeping most, that s true, isn t it, 
 amigo?" 
 
 "Yes, Senor," replied the Indian with a grin. 
 
 The philosopher was not to be diverted. 
 
 "I believe," he proceeded, "that there is a happy 
 medium which the Indian might attain, and he would 
 then enjoy the benefits of both savage and civilized 
 life. I am sure the frontiersman, like myself, gets 
 more out of life than does either the Indian or the 
 city-bred man. Certainly the city man would enjoy :ll jfj 
 much better health, and a chance of much longer life, ^ 
 if his lines were cast in nature s home." jij 
 
 Like Holcomb, Gardiner was a college ofraHuate.M 
 
234 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 and the purity of his English did not distinguish him 
 above many of the men of the mountains and isolated 
 pueblos. While this part of the Southwest at 
 tracted its quota of the rougher element whose lan 
 guage is the vernacular of the popular western story, 
 it had its large sprinkling of men of the schools, who 
 found in the beauty of the country and the perfection 
 of the climate attractions stronger than those of 
 academic pursuits. 
 
 El Estranjero, though with no knowledge of his 
 past, had brought into his new life, strangely enough, 
 a full recollection of the books he had read, and his 
 speech showed that he, too, had known the refining 
 influence of a thorough education. Judging from their 
 uncouth dress and rugged appearance, a chance passer 
 by might have thought these men under-bred or igno 
 rant, but a single sentence spoken by either showed 
 their native courtesy and the training they had 
 received. They were congenial companions, therefore, 
 and Estranjero looked forward with pleasure to spend 
 ing these months in the wilderness with the talkative 
 man whose quaint philosophy always interested him. 
 
 As they made their way upward Gardiner s flow of 
 talk whiled away the hours. When they halted to 
 rest and partake of food, eaten with a relish known 
 only by those who have earned the right to enjoy 
 ment by exercise in the open air, Gardiner still talked, 
 Sand when, lounging at night beside their fire in the pine 
 forest, where the needles made a bed as soft and 
 springy as a bed of down, while they watched the 
 
Some clear stream where the trout were abin 
 
 Page 235 
 
PHILOSOPHY BY THE WAY 
 
 235 
 
 smoke curling from their pipes and listened to the 
 soughing wind as it swayed and caressed the fragrant 
 pines that raised their lofty heads into the dark 
 blue of the night sky, Gardiner s voice babbled on like 
 the mountain brook. Estranjero listened dreamily, 
 sometimes losing it altogether as his thoughts turned 
 back to the home he had left and the woman he loved, 
 and sometimes putting in a word to start again the 
 current of his companion s thoughts, for he liked to 
 hear him, and Gardiner liked equally to be heard. 
 
 The three men pushed rapidly across the mountains, 
 occasionally stopping to fish in some clear stream 
 where the trout were abundant, or to hunt deer and 
 to make jerky for future use. They traversed the 
 mountains and struck across the desert, unerringly 
 piloted by Juan, and after days and weeks of traveling 
 found themselves in the Pah-Ute country, where 
 Gardiner expected to locate the ledge described by the 
 prospector. 
 
 As they were to spend some months in the wilderness 
 here, they pitched their camp at the foot of a rocky 
 cliff that in some prehistoric time had been utilized as 
 the habitation of a tribe of cliff-dwellers, and settled 
 themselves to begin their search. 
 
 They built a wickiup of leaves and branches, in the 
 Indian fashion, and made themselves comfortable. 
 The Pah-Utes, who now knew of the extinction of the 
 flower of their tribe, had retired into the depths of 
 their forest fastness, and there was no apprehension 
 from them. Indeed, the Pah-Utes were in deadly - 
 
 
 

 (V 
 
 BU ESTKANJEEO 
 
 fear of their old enemy, the Apaches, and secreted 
 themselves like the other wild things of the wood, 
 hoping to escape from their fierce foes. 
 
 As cold weather came on, the wickiup was found to 
 be insufficient shelter against the inclemency of the 
 approaching season, and they determined to seek bet 
 ter quarters or improve these they had already con 
 structed. Their brush house backed against the 
 loosely laid wall of rock which had been the front of 
 the long-ruined cliff dwelling. By rebuilding this wall 
 and clearing the rubbish away behind it, they managed 
 to reconstruct a very respectable abode, which they 
 flattered themselves did no great discredit to their 
 cliff-dwelling predecessors. 
 
 In the rubbish which was piled deep upon the floor 
 of this rocky apartment, they found a number of uten 
 sils that must have been the property of the former 
 dwellers of the ancient flat. The most of these were 
 evidently cooking pots and vessels for the storage of 
 provisions and water. There were also among them, 
 deep down in the debris, several images that might 
 have been objects of worship. 
 
 By using the stone in the old wall, and blue clay for 
 mortar to relay it, their dwelling was made tight and 
 weather-proof, the doorway being the only entrance 
 for light and air. In one corner of the chamber was 
 a recess which had evidently been used for a fireplace 
 and for cooking, as the wall was still thick with soot. 
 A crevice in the upper wall had served as a vent for 
 the smoke. Taken altogether, there was very little 
 
The Utes and Apaches were restless." Page 247 
 
PHILOSOPHY BY THE WAY 237 
 
 lacking to make this dwelling much more comfortable 
 than many tenement houses in some of the larger 
 eastern cities. 
 
 They were all sufficiently well acquainted with the 
 excessive cold of the winter here, to make abundant 
 preparation for the freezing weather. For days they 
 gathered fuel and heaped it high in their abode. They 
 hunted deer and bear meat and fished in the streams, 
 dried their game and packed it in the vessels found in 
 the house, made snowshoes, so they might be prepared 
 for a sudden storm, and then set out in earnest to 
 prospect for the mine. 
 
 It was drawing on toward the close of a cold, bright 
 day, about a week after the completion of the house, % 
 that Estranjero and Gardiner, with a fine fat buck 
 they had killed lying at their feet, were smoking their 
 pipes by the door of their house. Juan had taken his 
 fishing rod and was fishing in the stream, hidden by a 
 dense clump of willows, when suddenly he heard the 
 terrible war cry of the Apaches, and crouching in the 
 shelter of his covert, from which he could view the 
 camp, saw to his horror, Estranjero and Gardiner 15 
 struggling in the grasp of a half score of Indians, who 
 soon bound their arms behind them, and, after looting * 
 the house of all it contained, and searching about care- -\ 
 fully, had evidently come to the conclusion that the - 
 two prospectors were alone. 
 
 Juan had long ago built a barrier across a green 
 canyon about three miles from the hut, making a 
 
 pasture for the burro and horse in a secluded little valley 
 
 - 
 
238 
 
 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 where the grass was fresh and green. Luckily the 
 Indian had his rifle and ammunition pouch with him, 
 and surmising that the Apaches had not noted the 
 pack saddles, which had been thrown into a thick 
 clump of brush behind the hovel, Juan waited till the 
 band was well on its way ; then, with the stealth and 
 cunning which made him the cleverest trailer in the 
 whole valley, he set out in pursuit. 
 
 Day after day he followed the Apaches, noting 
 where they camped at night, and at last got near 
 enough to see that the prisoners were not ill treated 
 and to hear a council talk from which he learned they 
 were to be taken to an Apache village on the banks of 
 the Colorado and there held until the return from, the 
 fall hunt of the great chief, Bull-face, when their fate 
 should be determined. 
 
 Juan now turned back, made all haste to the ruined 
 [hut, and seeking his horse in the canyon pasture, was 
 soon pushing his way by night and day towards 
 Elevado. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 NAWONA AND FRANCESCA 
 
 Alice and Nawona spent long hours together as the 
 autumn waned toward winter. Philip had bought his 
 ranch and was busy building a home for himself and 
 his bride-to-be. The trousseau must be fashioned, and 
 this in itself was a matter of absorbing interest, and 
 then there were lessons in English for Nawona and the 
 thousand other things in which she was to be 
 instructed. Alice was so painstaking, and Nawona 
 so quick of apprehension, that in a few weeks all 
 traces of her wild life disappeared. 
 
 Her love for Philip was a powerful stimulus to 
 improvement and her innate refinement naturally 
 caused her to adopt the ways of civilization. No elder 
 sister could have been more tenderly loved than she 
 and Philip loved Alice, and the keen delight that Alice 
 took in receiving their confidence and advising them | 
 was marred only by the constant pain of her own 
 unhappy love for El Estranjero. 
 
 In those weeks a new womanliness was born in 
 Alice. Her solicitude for her father s comfort became 
 more tender, and the expression upon her beautiful 
 face, though it dimmed somewhat the brightness of 
 her beauty, added to it an undefinable charm. 
 
 One day her father brought her a letter the contents 
 of which caused her the greatest joy. 
 
240 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 "Nawona," she called, "come and be happy with 
 me. My dearest and kindest friend, Mrs. Anderson, 
 who did so much for me when I was in Washington 
 last year, is in Los Angeles, and best of all, her hus 
 band, Colonel Anderson, is stationed there. I shall 
 soon see her, for she writes to ask me if it will be con 
 venient for her to make me a visit. Shall we not have 
 her at once? Would it not be fine if she could be here 
 
 Christmas?" 
 
 Nawona blushed as she said, "Yes, Alice dear, i 
 would indeed be fine. But tell me about her." 
 
 Christmas was the time the young lovers had chosen 
 for their bridal, for in those days long engagements 
 were not customary, and though Nawona was young 
 she had no kindred to object to the ardor of her lover, 
 and she looked forward with the greatest joy to the 
 time when she and Philip would inhabit the nest he 
 
 was building. 
 
 Alice rejoiced to have Mrs. Anderson s assistance 
 and her sensible advice in the preparations for the 
 household comfort of the young couple in their new 
 home. She drew Nawona down beside her and sau 
 
 -Nawona, she is a white-haired, lovely lady, this 
 friend of mine. She knew my mother when she was a 
 little girl, and her husband has long been in the army. 
 All of her relatives are army people. She has a 
 brother who is a general, and one son in the army and 
 another in the navy, and I don t know how many 
 -randsons in West Point and Annapolis. She is just 
 
NAWONA AND FEANCESCA 241 
 
 the sort of a young-old lady that I want to be when I 
 am spinster aunt to Philip s children." 
 
 Nawona laughed. "Alice, you will never be a 
 spinster aunt to anybody s children. You are such a 
 lovely lady, that if I were a man I would steal you 
 and run away with you if I could not get you other 
 
 wise." 
 
 "Well," said Alice, "I will write Mrs. Anderson 
 to come just as quickly as she can get here and stay 
 as long as she possibly can, but at all events until after 
 Christmas. We will go to Francesca now and plan 
 the immediate fitting up of a room for her." 
 
 Francesca s attitude toward Nawona was a strange 
 one. She would prepare especial dainties for her, 
 take the greatest pains in every way to please her, and 
 would scan her face with an almost painful anxiety, as 
 if she were trying to read something there, or to solve 
 some puzzle in her own mind. 
 
 To-day Alice left Nawona and Francesca in charge 
 of the furnishing of the room for Mrs. Anderson, 
 while she wrote her letter to her friend. Scarcely had 
 they been left alone, before Francesca turned to 
 Nawona and said in the Indian tongue : 
 
 "Sefiorita, your face to me is as one seen in a 
 dream. I try to remember, but my head is dull and 
 I cannot think. Where is it, Sefiorita, think you, that 
 I have seen you?" 
 
 Nawona smiled kindly. "It must be a mistake, - 
 Francesca," she said, answering the old woman in her, J 
 own language. "It could never have been that you ^| 
 
 - -iS3f:^g*l v .: fr^ J ^&%&&a&&f^t^, < " 
 
242 
 
 EL ESTRANJEKO 
 
 saw me before I came to this house, for I was never 
 before here, and you were never with my people." 
 
 "But when you were a little girl, were you never 
 here with your mother?" 
 
 It had not been thought best to tell Francesca and 
 the people of the pueblo much concerning Nawona. 
 The capture of white people by the Indians was not at 
 all uncommon in those days; therefore the rescue of 
 the girl, while it excited much interest, soon ceased to 
 be a subject of conversation in the pueblo, and as 
 Philip and Nawona were to make their home there, 
 they considered it best that only such of her history 
 as was already known through her rescue and return 
 to the settlement, should be made public property. 
 
 "My mother was never here," answered Nawona. 
 
 "And is the Senorita s mother still living?" asked 
 the Indian woman. 
 
 Nawona knew from the manner of the question that 
 there was none of the idle curiosity here that was so 
 repugnant to her. The anxious and earnest gaze of 
 the old woman, her almost trembling eagerness to 
 learn something about her, strangely impressed the 
 young girl. 
 
 "No, Francesca, she died when I was a very little 
 girl." 
 
 "Ah, she is dead," breathed Francesca. "How did 
 she die, Senorita?" 
 
 "Among the Indians, Francesca. She was mad 
 from the hour I remember her." 
 
 "Yes," said Francesca, "in the storm and rain you 
 
 
 
NAWONA AND FKANCESCA 
 
 243 
 
 awoke, and she was shrieking as an Indian would 
 have scalped some man that she saw shot in the head 
 and dead at her feet." Nawona stared at her with 
 amazement. 
 
 "Oh, I know, I know/ almost screamed Francesca. 
 Nawona shrank from her in terror. 
 
 "You could not have known/ she said. 
 
 "Listen," said the old woman, grasping her arm 
 and speaking low and rapidly, with her face almost 
 against that of the girl. 
 
 "It was night, the rain fell and the thunder, ah, the 
 thunder was like the roaring of beasts, and the light 
 ning blazed, and fear and death were abroad upon the 
 mountain. There were wagons, many wagons, and 
 the camp fire was quenched by the rain, and it was 
 very dark. But all the sky was light for an instant \ 
 with the lightning, and then there stole from behind 
 the trees and rocks, Indians Apaches and Utes." 
 
 The girl s eyes widened in horror, and she drew 
 back from the strange old woman who was telling her 
 this tale. 
 
 "Yes, there are Indians, Pah-Utes and Apaches, 
 and they give their war cry, and men come from the 
 wagons. They are stupid with sleep, and in the dark- ^ 
 ness cannot find their guns, and the Indians strike 
 them down, men, women and children. Oh, Mother 
 of God ! they kill the little children ! They dash their 
 bodies against the rocks, and see, there is one, an 
 Apache, who swings a babe by the heels, and its head 
 is crushed against a tree before it can wail. 
 
244 
 
 EL E8TRANJERO 
 
 "But there against the rock is a woman. Her long 
 brown hair is unbound. A child, hidden behind her, is 
 sobbing in terror. And there is a man who has a 
 hatchet in his hand. He strikes again and again as he 
 stands before her and the little child to keep them 
 from their enemies. He cuts one Indian through the 
 head, and another, and another. Then he falls, and a 
 tall Pah-Ute comes up and would scalp the dead white 
 man, but another white man in gray is there. He is 
 with the Indians and seems to command them. The 
 woman raises her hands to him and speaks. He for 
 bids the chief, for he is a chief, to take the scalp. 
 It is all quiet now, and the Indians are dragging 
 things from the wagons. They make a fire, they 
 dance about it ; but the Pah-Ute takes the little child 
 upon his shoulder, he leads the woman away in the 
 darkness. What then, Nawona, what then ? I see no 
 more." 
 
 Nawona knew that in some mysterious way the 
 woman was reading the tale of her own capture by the 
 Indians, but there were in the recital things she had not 
 remembered and did not know. How did the woman 
 know them, or how, indeed, did she know this story? 
 "Francesca," she cried in horror, "you were one of 
 that murdering band, you were with them, how else 
 could you know these things?" 
 
 "Nawona, I saw them in a picture of the Great 
 Spirit. It was in the evening that I saw all this, long 
 after it was past, and in this very room. Sefiorita 
 Alice was a little girl then, but she still remembers 
 
NAWONA AND FRA 
 
 the time and how I shrieked and was afraid at what I 
 saw. But now I know you were the little child, 
 Senorita Nawona. Oh, the Virgin be thanked, you 
 were the little child and are safe, and the Great Spirit 
 has led you here. Now may my little white dove, my 
 own dear Senorita, be happy!" 
 
 "What do you mean?" questioned Nawona. 
 
 But the old woman suddenly turned and went about 
 her task, muttering to herself unintelligibly, and 
 Nawona determined later to ask Alice the meaning 
 of this mystery. In her heart Nawona still believed 
 that Francesca had been with the band of murderers 
 that had attacked the wagons when she and her mother 
 were captured by the savages ; but the old woman was 
 a valued servant in the Holcomb house, and she felt 
 that her own position as a guest and the recipient of so 
 many benefits, bound her to be silent as to this inci 
 dent in the career of the Indian woman, whom they all 
 regarded with so much affection. That she saw the 
 scene in a picture of the Great Spirit was of course a 
 falsehood. That was said to mislead her, she felt 
 certain, but she had no proof against the woman. She 
 herself, was really almost a stranger to the Holcombs. 
 If Francesca chose to deny the conversation, to which 
 there had been no listeners, it would place Nawona 
 herself in the position of falsifying and with apparent 
 malice. 
 
 The girl considered all these things, and resolved 
 to say nothing for the present, but from that day she 
 avoided the old woman. She would take nothing 
 
246 
 
 EL ESTEANJEBO 
 
 from her hand if she could help it, and never spoke to 
 her except when necessity compelled it, and Alice, 
 who noticed her manner, attributed it, not unnaturally, 
 to dislike of Francesca because she was an Indian, and 
 the fact that Nawona now wished to forget her wild 
 life and all connected with it. 
 
The hearts of the young ladies were susceptible to uniforms." Page 247 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 THE LOCKET 
 
 Mrs. Anderson had arrived at the house with the 
 patio, and a company of cavalry had come as an escort 
 of honor. With them moreover was her husband. 
 The escort was incidental, as it was the intention of 
 Colonel Anderson to go into camp with the company 
 in the Pah-Ute country. Rumors had come from the 
 frontier that both the tribes of Utes and Apaches were 
 restless, and that the Apaches, not content with mak 
 ing war upon their red neighbors, were at their old 
 tricks of stealing cattle, burning isolated ranch houses, 
 and murdering settlers. 
 
 Now the company was encamped in the meadow 
 a half a mile below the gate in the cypress hedge, and 
 would remain there for at least a week. 
 
 There were handsome young officers in the company, 
 and the hearts of the young ladies of the pueblo were 
 as susceptible to uniforms as are those of their sisters 
 at this day. There were dinners, dances, and a bar 
 becue planned for the entertainment of the military 
 visitors; and the Holcomb house, as the headquarters / 
 of the Colonel, became the center of the gayeties. 
 
 Nawona and Alice, chaperoned by Mrs. Anderson, 
 were, of course, the belles of the functions that were 
 given by Alice at her father s house. Alice was glad 
 
 [247] 
 
ESTRANJERO 
 
 - 
 this opportunity to introduce Nawona to the 
 
 neighbors, and, dressed in the pretty clothes that had 
 been fashioned for her, the girl, with her innocent 
 i$^ beauty and refined manner, won instant approval. She 
 r/li^ll / was as self-possessed as though she had always been 
 \ among such scenes, and few would have thought from 
 her speech, look or manner that only a few weeks be 
 fore she had roamed the desert with a band of savages, 
 a captive since childhood. 
 
 It was the evening of Thanksgiving Day, and the 
 occasion was to be celebrated at the Holcomb house 
 with a dinner for the officers of the company. This 
 dinner was to consist not only of turkey and other 
 traditional Thanksgiving dishes, but the triumphs of 
 Spanish cooking were also being prepared by Francesca 
 and Vera. 
 
 After the dinner there was to be dancing in the 
 patio, which had been floored and hung with lanterns 
 and decorated with pepper boughs and pine branches. 
 This was to be the last of the round of festivities in 
 honor of the visitors, for on the morrow the camp 
 would be broken and the cavalry would ride away, 
 Mrs. Anderson remaining with Alice as her guest. 
 
 To-night Alice wore a white gown, her golden hair 
 was wound with pearls, and her arms and neck were 
 bare. After she was ready to go out to meet tlie 
 guests, whose arrival might now be expected soon, 
 Mrs. Anderson, stately in the black velvet and 
 diamonds which she had last worn at a Presidential 
 reception, tapped at Alice s door. 
 
THE LOCKET 
 
 249 
 
 "My dear," she said to Alice, "I want you to look 
 me over and see if I will do." 
 
 "Do," cried Alice, "you look like some grand 
 court dame." 
 
 "My husband likes this dress," replied her friend, 
 "and to-morrow he will be gone, so I want to look 
 the best I can for the sake of my lover." 
 
 "Here is another," Alice cried with a laugh, as 
 Nawona timidly knocked at the door. "Come in, 
 Wona, darling." 
 
 The girl entered, and Alice sprang up and embraced 
 her. "You look just like a rose, Nawona, and Philip 
 certainly is right when he calls you his Rose of the 
 desert. " 
 
 Nawona s gown was a soft and shimmering pink 
 
 silk, made to show her* rounded arms and plump neck. 
 
 Her curls were gathered high upon her head and 
 
 bound with a fillet of ribbon the same color as her 
 
 dress. About her neck was a slender gold chain, a gift 
 
 from her lover, and depending from this chain was the 
 
 disk of gold taken from the breast of the dead Ute 
 
 chief, its diamonds sparkling like raindrops in the sun. 
 
 Mrs. Anderson looked her over with approval. 
 
 "My dear," she said, "Alice was right," Then her 
 
 eyes fell upon the ornament upon the girl s white neck. 
 
 She gasped a little, turned pale, and started forward. 
 
 "Where did you get that, Nawona?" she asked, 
 
 pointing to the trinket. 
 
 Nawona told her the story of the golden disk, how 
 she had seen the Ute chief take it from her dead 
 
250 
 
 EL EST BANJEBO 
 
 mother s bosom, how he had always thereafter worn 
 it, and how Philip called it her dowry, and told her to 
 take good care of it, for it might some day lead to the 
 discovery of her kindred. 
 
 While she related this, Mrs. Anderson gazed at her 
 with a new look upon her face. She had been told the 
 girl s story and her heart had gone out to her from 
 the first. When Nawona had finished giving her the 
 history of the disk the lady said : 
 
 "Nawona, will you take it from your neck for a 
 moment; I want to look at it closely." 
 
 The young girl unclasped the chain and handed the 
 ornament to Mrs. Anderson. That lady looked it 
 over, the tears standing in her eyes. 
 
 "Yes, it is the same," she said brokenly, "there can 
 be no doubt. See, Alice, these diamonds form an old 
 English G. Do you notice this center one? See, I 
 will press it." She did so, and out from the side there 
 was pushed the end of a little lever, made of the curv 
 ing side of the disk, and so cunningly joined to it that 
 unless she had known of its existence she could not 
 have discovered it. "See again," she said, "I now raise 
 this so, and press upon it." As she pressed, the little 
 disk separated and opened, revealing that it was a 
 cunningly contrived locket. In the locket were two 
 miniatures, one of a woman whose face was so like 
 Nawona s that Alice was not surprised when the girl, 
 with tears running down her face, cried, "Oh, that is 
 my mother, my own mother, and to think that all the 
 years her face has been there and I have never seen it ! 
 
THE LOCKET 
 
 251 
 
 I have dreamed of it many times, but in my dreams 
 her face was always sad, and her hair hung about her 
 neck and she was weeping or moaning. But look, 
 Alice, here is my mother as young as I am, and sweet, 
 oh, so sweet !" 
 
 Alice took the locket and reverently gazed upon it. 
 But who was that with curling brown hair, whose 
 gray eyes looked out from the other side. This face 
 was surely a familiar one. She pointed to it with an 
 unspoken question upon her lips. 
 
 Mrs. Anderson, pale and trembling, again took the 
 locket from Nawona and led her to a seat. 
 
 "My dear child," she said, "sit down, and then look 
 at the picture of this man, and tell me if you can 
 remember anything about him." 
 
 Nawona gazed long at the face. "Why, yes," she 
 cried at last, "I used to call that man Pa-pa. He 
 once brought me a big doll with yellow hair. That is 
 all I can remember, but I know it is the same man." 
 
 "Nawona, that man was your father. I knew him 
 well from the time he was a little fellow in kilts, and 
 I used to visit his mother in her fine old Virginia 
 home. And this girl was Mary Carter. Her mother 
 and I were roommates at school. I myself had this 
 locket made as a wedding present for Mary when she 
 married Joseph Gratton. She was seventeen then and 
 he twenty. It was a love-match, and I knew nothing 
 would please her more than a miniature of her young 
 husband; so I had one painted and placed her picture 
 in one side of the locket and his in the other. I can 
 
 \ 
 
252 EL ESTBANJEKO 
 
 never forget her pretty surprise, and her long puzzling 
 to find the secret of opening it, the day I gave it to 
 her." Mrs. Anderson was crying now, unrestrainedly. 
 
 "You are her daughter, dear, there is not a doubt of 
 it. You have her face, her ways, the very tones of her 
 voice. And poor little Mary died among those savage 
 Indians, and Joseph is dead, I know, or he would 
 have followed her and rescued her." 
 
 Francesca was at the door with a message for her 
 mistress, and, unnoticed by the three excited women, 
 had drawn cautiously near as this narrative proceeded* 
 Peering over Nawona s shoulder she now saw the 
 picture in her hand. She pointed her wrinkled brown 
 forefinger at the face of the smiling youth with the 
 curling brown hair. 
 
 "Senorita," she cried, "it is El Estranjero." 
 
 Alice snatched the picture from Nawona s hand and 
 stared at it. There was the same high white forehead, 
 the same clear gray eyes, the same smiling and tender 
 mouth, the same expression. True, it was many years 
 younger, but this resemblance had perplexed her 
 / at the first glance, and now that the old Indian woman 
 had spoken there was not a doubt. 
 
 "It is, it is!" she cried. "Oh, Nawona, you have 
 found a father and El Estranjero has at last found a 
 name. 
 
 "Tell us, Mrs. Anderson, all you know about these 
 two. Tell us at once. Francesca," she said to the 
 old woman, "tell father to entertain the gentlemen till 
 
 we come." 
 
THE LOCKET 
 
 253 
 
 "I have little to tell you," Mrs. Anderson said. 
 "Joseph and Mary were schoolmates and grew up 
 together upon adjoining plantations. He chose the 
 army as a profession. They were married, and then 
 came the Civil War with all its confusions. Loyal to 
 the Federal government, Joseph went to the front. 
 Mary s home was broken up; her father and brothers 
 fought and died, two for the North and the father and 
 one brother for the South. When his command was 
 transferred to the Army of the West, she followed 
 her young husband, and then, as my own husband was 
 with the Army of the Potomac, I lost sight of the 
 young people. 
 
 "But who is this man," she said, "that the miniature 
 of Joseph Gratton so strangely resembles?" 
 
 Alice related the strange account of the appearance 
 of El Estranjero in the pueblo, his total loss of mem 
 ory, as the result of his injuries, privations, and long 
 illness, and the tale related by Francesca of her vision, 
 seen that summer night when El Estranjero first 
 became conscious. 
 
 The story of the vision removed once and for all 
 Nawona s suspicions of Francesca, and she, in turn, 
 told what had occurred on the day Mrs. Anderson s 
 letter, telling of her expected visit, was received. 
 
 Alice was very thoughtful while this narrative was 
 being supplied, and when Nawona had finished said: 
 
 "Let us agree between us to keep this matter quiet 
 for the present. Mrs. Anderson, have you any means 
 of finding out the record of Joseph Gratton? I mean 
 
 17 
 
254 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 that part of his story that would supply what we do 
 not know, how he came to be with his wife and child 
 in the mountains of Southern California?" 
 
 "My brother, General - , has access to the 
 
 records of the War Department. They will probably 
 unravel that part of the mystery." 
 
 "We must have documents that will convince El 
 Estranjero," said Alice. "His mind is a blank as to 
 his whole past, and we must be able to furnish all the 
 proofs of his identity. So, I think until we can do 
 this, we had better keep silent." 
 
 "I must tell Philip," objected Nawona. 
 
 "Oh, yes, little one, we know that you could keep 
 no secret from Philip," smiled Mrs. Anderson, "but 
 I will not tell my husband until I am fortified with 
 every possible proof." 
 
 With this mutual understanding the three ladies 
 went out to meet their guests. The evening passed 
 gayly; the dance was kept up till the morning star 
 shone in the sky, and when the revelry was over and 
 the cavalry had ridden away at dawn, Alice, pale, 
 weary and heartsore, threw herself upon her bed to 
 think over the events of the past few hours. 
 
 What effect would the revelation of Estranjero s 
 past have upon his life and upon her own? When he 
 gazed at the sweet face in the miniature, would his 
 memory pick up the dropped threads, and all the old 
 and forgotten emotions be aroused? Yes, there was 
 no doubt that thd miniature and the proofs that would 
 be brought forth would perfectly reunite the broken 
 
THE LOCKET 
 
 255 
 
 chain of his life, and then with kindred and family 
 restored to him he would go to take his rightful 
 place in the world. 
 
 He had never again spoken of that night in the 
 patio. Perhaps even then some memory of his past had 
 stirred within him. Perhaps the emotion that then 
 thrilled him had reknit the old thread and he had 
 remembered his first love, and it was the face in the 
 miniature which had come to him after that night and 
 so he had said no more. 
 
 Surely the remembrance could have been only faint 
 and fugitive, surely he could not have recalled a 
 single incident to anchor it and give it the proper 
 place in the sequence of his life. No, that was 
 quite impossible. He and her father were such intimate 
 friends that he would have told him. 
 
 There was his strange attraction toward Nawona. 
 Was this the natural affection of a father for a child ? 
 No, it must have been the faint memory of his first 
 love that stirred within him that made him love 
 Nawona at first sight, for Alice did not doubt that he 
 had loved Nawona. 
 
 Then Alice thought over Estranjero s past history. 
 She pictured in her fancy the Virginia plantation 
 where he was born, his trudging to school beside his 
 child sweetheart, the unfolding of the childish romance 
 into the fervor of the man s love. A fierce pain tugged 
 at her heart and would not be quieted. 
 
 She was jealous of this suddenly unfolded past of 
 the man she loved. She was both wicked and small 
 
 Tfjf><yt. 
 
 . . . .jfjV 4- 
 
 Sf.:- 
 
256 
 
 EL ESTBANJERO 
 
 :>&? 
 
 natured, she told herself many times, or she would 
 rejoice that he had found a daughter and was no 
 longer a nameless dependent upon strangers. But she 
 did not rejoice; she wished that it were not so, that 
 Nawona was still the girl of unknown parentage 
 whom Philip was to marry, that Estranjero was still 
 the nameless man, who might some day love her. 
 
 These thoughts surged through her, then she sat 
 up, and flung back her hair from her tear-wet face. 
 
 "Alice Holcomb," she said sternly, "y u are worse 
 that I thought you. You absolutely put away all these 
 unworthy thoughts. They are not true; if they were 
 it would be yourself that you love, not Estranjero. 
 You are glad that now he can hold up his 
 head among the best. You are glad that his life will 
 be enriched with all the memories of his youth. Above 
 all, Alice, you are glad that you, and you alone, shall 
 tell him all these things with your own lips. This 
 will be your recompense for giving him up, for give 
 him up you do now, once and for all. He belongs to 
 that dead woman and to his sweet daughter. You have 
 no right or part in him." 
 
 Nevertheless, as she lay down again and fell asleep, 
 Alice prayed for God to keep him, to send him back 
 safely, and that somewhere, if not in this world, then 
 in some future world, she might rest her soul upon the 
 calm strength of the soul of the man she loved and 
 
 whom she renounced. 
 
 -^ 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 BOOTS AND SADDLES 
 
 Juan, riding limp and weary in the woods at the 
 edge of the desert, with his face turned toward the 
 pueblo, sat up alert and excited as his horse, pricking 
 up its ears, whinnied and was answered near at hand 
 by another horse, and then another, and another. 
 Listening, his quick ear heard the soft thud of many 
 tramping hoofs, and then a low spoken word of 
 command. It was cavalry, no doubt. They had heard 
 his horse, and were ready if it should be an Apache 
 pony approaching. 
 
 Juan made haste to ride up into the open upon a 
 ridge, where he could be plainly seen, and sat there 
 waiting. A trooper ventured out and rode straight 
 toward hirr^ his carbine ready for instant use if this 
 should prove a ruse and the Indian, who looked like a 
 friendly Mission Indian, but disguise an ambush of the 
 Apaches. 
 
 When the trooper was near enough Juan spoke in 
 English. "I am Senor Holcomb s man, Juan," he said, 
 "on my way to Elevado to ask help for El Estranjero 
 and Mr. Gardiner, who are prisoners among the 
 Apaches." 
 
 "Wait here," commanded the soldier, "and I will 
 carry your message to Colonel Anderson." 
 
 In a few minutes the Colonel came trotting up to 
 [257] 
 
 (* 
 
258 
 
 EL ESTRANJEKO 
 
 the place where Juan sat. From Mr. Holcomb he had 
 heard the story of the prospectors and knew the person 
 nel of the party, and that Juan was with them. He 
 listened to the account of their capture with great 
 solicitude, and Juan at once offered to substantiate 
 his story by leading the troop to the place where they 
 had made their winter hovel and by guiding them to 
 the Indian village where Gardiner and Estranjero 
 were held. He thanked the Virgin for his good fortune 
 in meeting the troops, as his fears for Gardiner and 
 Estranjero had urged him to travel night and day 
 and he was afraid that neither he nor his horse could 
 bear the fatigues of the long journey. He had not 
 taken time to hunt for game, and had subsisted 
 as best he might on the little jerky he happened to 
 have in his pouch before the Indians looted the camp. 
 
 The cavalry was plentifully supplied with rations, 
 and Juan was given a fresh mount. Riding at the 
 head of the cavalcade, he led them across the desert, 
 into the Nevada woods and so to the ruins of the 
 $11 old camp. The Colonel, now thoroughly convinced 
 and thoroughly aroused, pushed his men forward with 
 all speed. From this point they moved with the 
 greatest caution, and reached the neighborhood of the 
 Apache village the very night Bull-face returned from 
 his fall hunt and assembled his warriors in council. 
 
 A rocky box canyon with overhanging ledges and 
 with a narrow entrance proved to be a good hiding 
 place for their horses, so the troop was dismounted 
 ,and, under the guidance of Juan, crept undiscovered 
 
They moved with the greatest caution." Page 258 
 
BOOTS AND SADDLES 259 
 
 to the very edge of the council fire. The pow-wow 
 was a short one, every voice apparently had been given 
 for the death of the prisoners, and Rainmaker, Bull- 
 face, and the other chiefs present concurred. The vil 
 lage was off the reservation, the band had evidently 
 broken loose from all restraint and, while it was evident 
 that they had stumbled by accident upon the two pris- 
 oners, their attitude toward the whites that might cross 
 their path in their present mood was plain enough. 
 
 Colonel Anderson and Juan could gain no sight of 
 the prisoners, however, and a whispered consultation 
 decided them that the first thought must be for their 
 rescue. There was nothing to be done but for the 
 troop to surround the village and wait the signal to 
 attack. 
 
 When the pow-wow was over, two holes about ten 
 feet apart were dug in the ground and two strong 
 green saplings were set up. The squaws and children 
 had evidently been heaping up sticks and brush for the 
 occasion, for a great pile of fuel was immediately 
 forthcoming and placed about the stakes. Then, from 
 a wickiup near the center of the village, El Estranjero 
 and Gardiner were led forth. Both were gaunt and 
 haggard but undaunted. Both had their arms firmly 
 bound behind them, but neither showed the least sign 
 of fear. 
 
 "Well, Estranjero," said Gardiner, as they came 
 forth, "every man has to die sometime, and our time 
 has come." 
 
260 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 "Yes, Gardiner, it seems that it has," without a 
 tremor answered El Estranjero. 
 
 "Well, there s always something to be thankful 
 for," rejoined the philosopher, "and I m thankful that 
 we r e to be burned with dry wood. Good-bye, friend, 
 it won t be a long job." 
 
 "Good-bye, Gardiner ; we ve had many pleasant 
 days together. You re a man as well as a philoso 
 pher," was Estranjero s answer. 
 
 They had now arrived at the stake. A painted 
 brave had sprung forward with the thongs, ready to 
 bind them to the upright posts ; two others stood, one 
 at each pile of wood, with a flaming brand in hand 
 ready to light the pyres; but at that instant a shot 
 from the cover of the brush struck one of the torch- 
 bearers in the breast and he fell. 
 
 The momentary consternation was quite sufficient 
 for the five scouts posted in the nearer covert to rush 
 A forward, hastily scatter the faggots with their boots, 
 \ cut the thongs of the prisoners, and with leveled 
 carbines, back into the brush with El Estranjero and 
 ^ Gardiner, protecting them as they retreated. 
 
 The uniform of Uncle Sam s soldiers was a most 
 unpleasant sight for the Apache braves at that mo 
 ment. Their experiences with Uncle Sam s boys in 
 the past had so impressed them with the latter s 
 prowess that they had no desire again to come into 
 contact with them. They had so often succeeded in 
 making the Government believe that it was some other 
 "bad boy" had done naughty work, in case of border 
 
BOOTS AND SADDLES 
 
 261 
 
 depredations, that they thought that they might easily 
 do so this time, but here they were, many miles from 
 their proper place if captured, and taken red-handed in 
 an outrage upon white men. 
 
 They were quick to see the logic of the situation, 
 and felt sure that there must be a considerable force 
 surrounding them, else the attack would not have been 
 so bold. Whether they should fight or run was the 
 question that must have occurred to each, and it 
 seemed that the unanimous opinion was that it would 
 be best to scatter quietly and trust to luck and the dark 
 ness of the night to evade pursuit. 
 
 A few shots from the troopers denoted that a few - 
 of the hostiles had exposed themselves, but by leaving - 
 behind them everything in the village, and taking at 
 once to the brush, they made their get-away, and 
 though the troopers remained upon the watch in their 
 ambush till daylight, there were few results of the 
 surprise, beyond the re-capture of the prisoners. 
 
 Feeling sure that the hostiles would now make every 
 attempt to reach their reservation or rallying a large 
 band, become openly defiant, Colonel Anderson sent 
 Juan and five troopers back to Elevado with Gardiner 
 and Estranjero, and striking the Old Santa Fe trail, 
 he rode with the rest of the company to the nearest fort 
 in the Apache country, that he might make report upon 
 his movements and render assistance if such were 
 needed. 
 
 fc 
 
 ft 
 
CHAPTER XLI 
 
 A PSYCHIC PHENOMENON 
 
 Old Francesca was ill. Rheumatism had her in its 
 grasp, and Vera was queening it over her kitchen. 
 This in itself would have been grief enough, but to be 
 laid by the heels now when she longed to be out and 
 in the wilderness seeking Juan and Estranjero! 
 
 Alice was sitting by her side. It was early in the 
 morning and the old woman dozed, so Alice waited 
 with a tray and some delicacy to tempt her appetite, 
 until the Indian woman awoke. When she opened 
 her eyes, Alice was surprised to notice how wild they 
 looked. 
 
 "Senorita," cried the old woman, "he calls, Estran- 
 | jero calls, and I cannot go. The night before and 
 again last night he called to me. His hands are bound, 
 his clothes in rags, and he limps as he walks. He is 
 driven along over rocks and streams by Apaches and 
 they spit upon him and revile him, but in reply he says 
 nothing. 
 
 "With him there is another, but not Juan, and he, 
 too, is bound, and he, too, limps. Last night I saw 
 them both. They sit in a village and they are still 
 jwith hands tied and now their feet, too, are tied, but 
 nowhere is Juan. Oh, Senorita, send some one to 
 El Estranjero, he calls, and he calls !" 
 
 [262] 
 
A PSYCHIC PHENOMENON 
 
 263 
 
 Alice heard the old woman with a shudder. "I will 
 send some one, Francesca," she said, "now eat." 
 
 "If they are not here when they said they would 
 return," Alice thought, "I will urge father to go 
 and find them." She began to feel that there was 
 something out of the natural in this power of Francesca 
 to communicate with Estranjero. 
 
 Even at that time many devoted scientists had 
 investigated various mental phenomena, but the 
 knowledge of psychic occulta was not so widespread 
 then as it is now. Had it been, Alice could have 
 understood that Francesca s long vigil at Estranjero s 
 bedside had brought her mind into rapport with that 
 of the patient. Estranjero was then in what is now 
 called the subjective state. The subjective mentality, 
 being in the ascendant and knowing all things, past, 
 present or future, could convey by mental transfer 
 ence or telepathy what was in the subjective mind, 
 and thus reveal the history of his past. Alice would 
 have known that the subjective consciousness, through 
 the total suspension of Estranjero s memory, was on 
 the alert to communicate with the first person able to 
 receive its message, and this communication once 
 established was likely to be repeated when the objective 
 consciousness was out of touch with the subjective, 
 as when he was in normal sleep. Then it was that 
 Francesca was always able to receive the "call," as she 
 called it, of Estranjero, even though she herself was 
 wide awake. 
 
 Alice would have known that the "ghosts" and other 
 
264 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 so-called occult phenomena that are constantly being 
 told of, are due to this power of the subjective mind to 
 convey what we now call telepathic messages; but 
 knowing none of these things, she could only ponder 
 the strange experiences of the old woman with secret 
 uneasiness and wait with a woman s patience for what 
 time would bring forth. 
 
CHAPTER XLII 
 
 A LETTER 
 
 As Colonel Anderson had given the men he sent 
 with Estranjero, Gardiner, and Juan orders to proceed 
 slowly and at the convenience of the two rescued men, 
 it was decided by them to camp in their old cliff 
 dwelling for a few days, till they could recruit their 
 strength, impaired by the scant living in the Indian 
 village. 
 
 Juan and the soldiers hunted in the woods, while 
 Gardiner, as soon as he was able to do so, resumed his 
 search for the prospect hole that he had come to find. 
 At last he found it and, making his monuments and 
 locating properly his mine, was then ready to return 
 and wait for another season before working it. As 
 the winter was now almost upon them, and the snows 
 would make the mountains impassable, it was decided 
 to return at once. 
 
 As is sometimes the case in Southern California, 
 the early rains were all warm and no snow fell in the 
 mountains until long after this journey was over. 
 The weather remaining bright and warm, the home 
 trail was followed in a leisurely manner, and it was 
 not until a week before Christmas that Estranjero saw 
 the blue smoke from the chimney of the Holcomb 
 house and the fair valley outspread in all its beauty. 
 
 They arrived late at night, and Alice did not know 
 [265] 
 
266 EL ESTBANJEEO 
 
 they had come, until happening to glance from her win 
 dow she saw Juan smoking his cigarette at the farthest 
 corner of the patio, and Estranjero, thinner, more 
 bronzed than she had ever seen him, but otherwise 
 unchanged, talking with her father as they sat on 
 the bench under the rosebush. 
 
 Her hands trembled as she finished coiling her hair 
 and fastened her linen collar, but she soon regained 
 her composure and met him at breakfast as though he 
 had been gone but a day. 
 
 Mrs. Anderson watched Estranjero curiously that 
 morning, as he told of his capture and rescue, and 
 gave an account of all that had happened in the weeks 
 since he went away. More than once she addressed 
 some question to him that directed his full attention to 
 her, thinking that he might recognize her; for the 
 instant she saw him, all doubt she might have had of 
 his identity vanished, and every trick of voice and 
 gesture reminded her of the lad she had long before 
 known so well. 
 
 That day Mrs. Anderson went into Alice s room 
 with a voluminous letter in her hands. Alice had not 
 spoken half a dozen words to Estranjero, but some 
 subtle sympathy between the two women had apprised 
 Mrs. Anderson, before she had seen Estranjero half 
 an hour in Alice s presence, that she loved him, though 
 what his feelings toward the girl were, she could not 
 determine, so careful was the guard he kept upon 
 himself. 
 
 The letter bore a Washington postmark, and we 
 
A LETTER 
 
 267 
 
 will not quote its language; but Alice, reading it, 
 found that the General, Mrs. Anderson s brother, had 
 made a most thorough search of the records, his own 
 keen interest in the Gratton family causing him to 
 overlook no detail. His influence with the War 
 Department was such that every assistance was granted 
 and every latitude given. 
 
 He found that Joseph Gratton, had been a student 
 at West Point, had become at an early age a Colonel 
 in the regular army, and was loyal to the Union when 
 Virginia seceded. He had distinguished himself 
 at the battle of Bull Run, where he had been wounded 
 in the right wrist. For his bravery in this battle he 
 was promoted. 
 
 The Pay Master s Department showed the name of 
 Colonel Gratton on the pay roll for two years after 
 the former record ended, with accumulation of salary 
 for nearly that time; then all search of the record was 
 unavailing, until it was discovered from a Secret 
 Service record that Gratton had later been ordered 
 to California upon the request of General H., Com 
 mandant of the Pacific Coast, for an officer of exper 
 ience who could speak Spanish to be sent out to the f 
 southern end of the state where the emissaries of the 
 Confederate * government were using every effort to 
 induce the people to secede from the Union. It was 
 his opinion that a man of energy and ability should 
 organize leagues for the propagation of loyal sentiment 
 and to prevent, if possible, this secession. 
 
 Gratton was the man chosen for this post, and a 
 
268 
 
 EL ESTBANJEBO 
 
 record on file gave a request from him that his wife 
 and child might be allowed to accompany him., as he 
 might be gone months or years. This request had 
 been granted, and a requisition made on the Treasury 
 for the expenses. Following the matter further, the 
 General found that Gratton had reported his safe 
 arrival at St. Louis and that on the next day he would 
 join an immigrant train going West. As his mission 
 was a secret one, it was presumed that he had been 
 ordered to do this. 
 
 Another letter filed in the Department from the 
 Commandant of the Division of the Pacific Coast, 
 stated that he had received a report which it had been 
 impossible to verify, that the immigrant train in which 
 Gratton traveled had been attacked by Indians and 
 that the attacking party had been led by a Confederate 
 officer. As every individual in the train had perished, 
 and as Gratton was never again heard of, the Com 
 mandant thought he and his wife and child must have 
 been killed. 
 
 The indefatigable General then consulted the war 
 records of the Confederacy and finally found an order 
 directing G eneral B. to send some one to intercept 
 Colonel Gratton, whose movements had been reported 
 and whose mission was suspected, and to prevent his 
 reaching? California at all hazards. Later on he found 
 that Major D>, to whom had been assigned the duty 
 of capturing Colonel Gratton, had reported that he 
 had been successful in intercepting the immigrant 
 train, but that the Indians employed by General B. to 
 
A LETTER 269 
 
 aid him, became unmanageable in the attack and had, 
 unfortunately, murdered everybody in the train with 
 the exception of Colonel Gratton s wife and daughter, 
 and that they had been given over to the Indians, 
 who demanded them, and whose demands the Major 
 had no means of resisting. 
 
 When Alice had given this letter a careful reading, 
 Mrs. Anderson said, "He is Joseph Gratton. I knew 
 him at once. Upon his right wrist is the scar made 
 by the bullet at Bull Run. I noticed it this morning 
 as we sat at breakfast. What shall we do, Alice ? The 
 Gratton estate is a rich property. It is in need of a 
 master, and Joseph is the last of his family." 
 
 "Wait, dear friend, let me tell Estranjero all the 
 things in this letter and try to awaken his memory of 
 the past. I have known him so many years, I believe 
 I can better approach this subject with him than any 
 other could." 
 
 "Then you shall do it, Alice, even before we tell 
 Nawona that the proofs have come. Here, take the 
 letter and let me know as soon as you can how he has 
 received it." 
 
 18 
 
CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 THE REVELATION 
 
 Alice found no opportunity to speak privately with 
 Estranjero until late in the afternoon. Then, as he 
 took the path toward the cypress hedge, she threw a 
 fleecy wrap about her shoulders and making a short 
 cut from the corner of the patio, entered the path a 
 few steps ahead of him, apparently unconscious of his 
 presence. 
 
 She heard his step falter an instant, then he came 
 forward raising his sombrero and bowing to her. 
 "Are you contemplating a walk, Miss Alice?" 
 "It is near sunset," she replied, with a little inward 
 qualm at her own cowardice, "and it is pleasant at this 
 hour." 
 
 "It is always pleasant here," said Estranjero, as 
 they walked along, "and I shall often think of this 
 orchard when I am gone." 
 "Gone!" almost gasped Alice. 
 "Yes, Miss Alice, at last I have determined to leave 
 Elevado." 
 
 "Are you tired of the place?" she inquired. 
 "Who could tire of this place?" he replied, smiling. 
 "Its beauty is as perfect when the rains are falling 
 as in the driest of the summer weather, and in the 
 dry weather it is as perfect as when it is green in 
 the spring. No, I should never tire of Elevado." 
 
THE REVELATION 271 
 
 "Then why are you leaving?" queried Alice. They 
 had by this time come to the gate in the hedge, but 
 Alice motioned Estranjero to a little summerhouse, 
 thatched with palm leaves, that stood at the angle of 
 the hedge. Here she often sat in the bright after 
 noons with her books and sewing. Now sinking into 
 one of the low chairs she motioned El Estranjero 
 to another. 
 
 He took off his sombrero and laid it upon a table, 
 and now Alice noticed the haggardness of his usually 
 placid face. The control he habitually exercised 
 seemed to be broken by some strong emotion, and his 
 eyes were troubled as he looked at the downcast face 
 of the girl. She was silent a moment, and then 
 glanced at him. "Estranjero, you cannot think of 
 leaving us after all these years." 
 
 "Yes, Alice. I have been too long a beneficiary of 
 your father s hospitality." 
 
 "How has he made you feel that, Senor?" 
 
 "He has never made me feel it. He has been like 
 a tender elder brother to me, and I shall never forget 
 his kindness; but I have lately realized that to stay 
 here indefinitely is hardly the manly thing for me to 
 do. I am a man without a name or place in the world. ; 5j||, : - 
 I must achieve both by my own exertions, and be| 
 dependent upon myself." 
 
 "I understand you, Senor, and cannot blame you 
 the feeling, but can nothing change your decision?" 
 
 "I can think of nothing. I have been seeking this 
 opportunity, hoping to see you alone that I might tell 
 
272 
 
 EL ESTRANJEBO 
 
 i 
 
 you first, and also that I might ask your pardon." 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 "For a great presumption some weeks ago, in the 
 patio, when the mocking birds were singing," he 
 replied hesitatingly, a deep color suffusing his face, the 
 veins of his throat throbbing perceptibly. 
 
 Alice said nothing, and he continued, "I knew that 
 you were much attached to Philip, but I knew, too, 
 that you were own cousins and I had not thought it 
 possible that you loved him in that way." 
 
 Alice was staring now in the utmost astonishment, 
 but El Estranjero was gazing at the floor and did not 
 notice her look. 
 
 "I knew it soon after, however, for I saw you 
 together your caresses by accident, " all this very 
 hesitatingly and gently. "I could not blame you. He is 
 young and handsome, has everything to make you 
 happy. I have camped with him, and tramped with 
 him. I have seen him bear hardship and face danger. 
 I have sounded him upon all the intimate themes 
 which make up the mental life of men, and, Alice, I 
 tell you that you have chosen well." 
 
 Something in Alice s silence caused him to look up 
 at her. She was gazing at him merrily. "Why, 
 Estranjero," she cried, "haven t you been told yet?" 
 
 "Told what?" 
 
 "That Philip is engaged to Nawona, that they are 
 to be married Christmas Day. The sly minx! I 
 thought she had told you all about it." 
 
 "Nawona, Philip!" stammered Estranjero. 
 
THE REVEfca 
 
 273 
 
 "Yes, Nawona Philip," Alice laughed, imitating: 
 his accents, "and it s as plain as daylight that they! 
 have adored each other from the very first." 
 
 "I have not had time to talk with Nawona since 
 I came back, and to tell the truth my mind was so -j 
 possessed by the ideas I have just revealed to you, 
 that I am afraid I should not have understood without - v 
 being told in so many words." 
 
 "No, Estranjero, Philip and I have always been 
 like brother and sister, and the idea of any other 
 relation never entered my head or his; besides he i 
 is my cousin, and I don t believe in such marriages." 
 
 Estranjero arose and took a couple of turns up 
 and down the floor, pondering this turn of affairs, 
 giving vent to some ejaculation of surprise under his 
 breath. Then he planted himself firmly in his chair, 
 and looked at Alice. 
 
 "Alice," he said, "you may guess what this informa 
 tion means to me, and what new courage it gives me 
 to do what I must now do." 
 
 Alice was mute. He bent forward, took one of the 
 hands that lay in her lap and raised it respectfully to 
 his lips. 
 
 "Alice, that night in the patio, I told you that my 
 soul was calling for you. It has called you every hour 
 since. In the dark nights in the wilderness, under 
 the stars upon the mountains, through the dust and 
 sunlight of the long trails, my soul has called you 
 and will call until yours answers." 
 
 She opened her lips to speak, but he went on. 
 
"When I have a name and place and a home to 
 offer you, Alice, I shall come back to you, and if you 
 are heart free and will listen to me, I will tell you 
 then how dearly I love you. Now I know I have 
 no right. Yet there is one question I ask you now, 
 Alice, would you then look with favor upon a man 
 without a name or a past?" 
 
 A great fear seemed to seize El Estranjero then, 
 for Alice looked him calmly in the eyes and said, 
 
 "Estranjero, the man I love has both a name and 
 a past. If you will be patient with me, I will tell 
 you about him." 
 
 This seemed deliberate cruelty in Alice, but while 
 he had been speaking, she had determined to give his 
 mind a preliminary shock, so that the great shock she 
 was now to deal him would not absolutely stun him. 
 In the conflict of his present emotions, there would 
 no doubt be a link with those of the past. 
 
 Alice saw clearly what her own position might be 
 should he instantly recall his youth and early love. A 
 direct answer to his appeal, she felt, would be unjust 
 to him and would place her in a false position when 
 his early love was remembered. 
 
 He was the soul of honor. He should not be bound 
 to her by a single tie other than that of love, and he 
 must know his own history, his own past and his 
 relation to Nawona before she would answer him. 
 
 Then, she thought as he was speaking, would not 
 the father-affection sweep over him and dominate his 
 feelings when he knew the fair Nawona was flesh 
 
THE EEVELATION 275 
 
 of his flesh ? She had often read of the rush of feel 
 ing of the mother for her new-born child, a feeling 
 that overmasters every other emotion, and the power of 
 which often submerges even wifely love. 
 
 "I will be fair and frank with him," she said, and 
 so she looked him in the eye and repeated, "I love a 
 man who has name and place in the world, and I wish 
 you to listen while I tell you about him." * 
 
 Alice moved her chair where she could study every 
 emotion that showed upon Estranjero s face. He had 
 laid her hand down reverently in her lap, but now 
 to his great surprise she took his right hand in her 
 firm, cool clasp, turned it over and pointed to a long 
 scar upon his wrist. 
 
 "Estranjero, where did you get the wound that made 
 that mark?" she said. 
 
 He looked at it curiously. "I have often wondered, 
 but so far as I know it has always been there. It is 
 part of the mystery of my life that I cannot penetrate." 
 
 "Well, keep your mind on that scar," Alice said, 
 "and listen to my story." 
 
 This was a curious beginning, he thought. Then he 
 flushed. Perhaps she thought he was unable to con- : 
 centrate sufficiently, on account of his disappointment, 
 to listen to her, and had used this little ruse to steady 
 him. Well, he suffered, but he was a man and he would 
 bear it. He said nothing, and Alice began. 
 
 "In a fair Virginia valley there is a broad plantation. 
 In that plantation about the center of the green fields, 
 there is a large white house with columns rising nearl 
 
276 
 
 EL ESTBANJEBO 
 
 to the roof, and these columns support a wide gallery 
 running clear across the front and around three sides. 
 There are roses and lilacs and honeysuckle in the old 
 fashioned front garden, and in the rear is a vegetable 
 garden where a white-headed old negro his name is 
 Cuffy hoes and waters the young vegetables, and he 
 is always humming some kind of a tune, usually a 
 hymn. 
 
 Estranjero now was watching the speaker with 
 strained attention, and Alice wondered if this picture 
 so faithfully described to her by Mrs. Anderson and 
 so often rehearsed in her own mind awoke any dor 
 mant memory. 
 
 "On the gallery," she went on after a moment s 
 pause, "in the long afternoons of the summer, a woman 
 sits with a little boy. The woman has blue eyes and 
 golden hair; the boy has brown curls and gray eyes, 
 and there is one toy he loves above all others, a rocking 
 horse with a real mane and tail. He calls it Tom, for 
 he has a real pony in the barn he calls Tom. Some 
 times he romps there with a huge yellow and white 
 St. Bernard dog that he calls Provo, and sometimes he 
 hitches a little red wagon to the great creature and is 
 drawn swiftly over the graveled driveway, shouting 
 and laughing." 
 
 Estranjero s forehead had begun to wrinkle in a 
 puzzled frown. "Why was Alice telling him this long 
 story ? It was unlike her to do so much talking to so 
 little purpose. However, he was here beside her, he 
 could smell the faint perfume from her bright hair, 
 
 > 
 
THE EEVELATION 
 
 277 
 
 and her soft breath almost fanned his cheek; let her 
 talk as long as she would, he would listen gladly, for 
 there was no other music like her voice." 
 
 "Are you listening?" inquired Alice, suspecting him 
 of wandering in his attention to her story. He pulled 
 himself together with a smile. 
 
 "I am listening with the most absorbed attention. 
 You are a good story teller, Alice, I did not know you 
 had such a gift." 
 
 "Now, this is an unusual story, and all I am telling 
 you is preliminary," Alice replied, "but did you ever 
 see such a house, and such a woman and child as I am 
 describing?" 
 
 "Never," said Estranjero with decision. 
 
 Alice pondered a minute and then continued : "Some 
 times a little girl, who lives in that house that can just 
 be seen from the northeastern corner of the gallery, 
 comes over to visit this little boy, and plays with him 
 on the lawn and romps with him on the gallery. She 
 has blue eyes and brown hair, like Nawona s." 
 
 "Like Nawona s," repeated Estranjero. 
 
 "Yes, arid the boy calls her Mary and she calls him 
 Joseph." 
 
 "Quite scriptural names you have chosen, Alice." 
 
 "Well, the boy grows older, he carries Mary s books ^ 
 to the schoolhouse upon the side hill yonder by the 
 river. He thinks there was never anything so sweet 
 in the world as her rosy cheeks, and as he grows in 
 stature this feeling grows upon him; but there comes 
 a time when he must part from Mary. His parents 
 
278 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 send him to a preparatory school and he does not see 
 his home nor Mary for many a day." 
 
 Estranjero was still impassive. 
 
 "I suppose, now, you will tell me that Mary falls in 
 love with some other boy and poor Joseph is thrown 
 over." 
 
 "Oh, no, indeed," said Alice, "he thinks of Mary 
 continually, for his nature is deep and steadfast and 
 mature even in early youth. So he thinks of Mary 
 always in those days of school life; in the vacations 
 he spends nearly all his time with her roaming the 
 green fields, for she has grown more lovely as she has 
 grown in stature, and she is as true and sweet as she 
 is beautiful." 
 
 For a moment Alice s eyes were misty. She had a 
 / vision of Estranjero and his early love strolling in 
 the enchanted valley of their youth and her heart con 
 tracted with a sharp pain; but she told herself she 
 would be faithful to that dead wife who was so true 
 to him, and she would recall her to his memory if it 
 were possible. 
 
 Her voice was very tender as she continued : 
 
 "Then there came a time when Joseph was sent to 
 West Point. He was a serious-minded young man 
 I now, and often thought of the danger threatening 
 his country, for Virginia was foremost in the agitation 
 that was then going on concerning slavery, and 
 already there was quiet talk of secession. Joseph s 
 sympathies were with the North and he had already 
 made up his mind which side he would take if there 
 
THE REVELATION 279 
 
 was to be war when he came home at twenty and was 
 married to his dear Mary." 
 
 Alice now continued rapidly : "The war was finally 
 declared and Joseph went to the front as a Colonel of 
 volunteers, and in one of the early battles, the first 
 battle of Bull Run, he was struck by a bullet in the 
 right wrist, and it made a scar just like that," and 
 Alice laid her soft fingers upon the scar and left her 
 hand there as she seached Estranjero s impassive face. 
 
 At first he wondered if that lingering touch could 
 have been an accident. It must have been, but there 
 was something indescribably sweet in the voice and 
 manner of the woman before him, some indefinable 
 solicitude for him that began to penetrate his conscious 
 ness and give him a warm glow that suffused his eyes 
 with light. 
 
 "After a while Joseph was sent West upon a secret 
 mission. His faithful Mary accompanied him, and 
 now there was a little girl, a dainty creature about five 
 years old, for Joseph and Mary had been married six 
 years now, and the little child must have been a great 
 delight and comfort to them on the long journey as 
 they crossed the wide plains in the wagon of an immi 
 grant train. 
 
 "I know nothing whatever about that journey, so will 
 skip that part and come to a night when they were 
 encamped upon the mountain, an awful night of rain 
 and thunder and lightning, and while all were asleepi 
 there were shrieks and cries, and the Indians broke out ~M 
 of the woods and before the men could find their guns, (3 
 
280 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 the savages had dragged the women and children from 
 their beds, had struck down their natural defenders and 
 murdered them. There was a Conferedate officer with 
 them. He had learned Joseph s mission and had been 
 detailed to frustrate it, but the Indians he was com 
 manding had broken all restraint, and he was power 
 less to prevent the slaughter. 
 
 "Joseph was struck down, and then Mary, wild with 
 grief, was carried into captivity with her little girl. 
 So greatly had the horror of seeing her husband killed 
 at her feet and the murder of the helpless women, and 
 children preyed upon her mind, that from that night 
 she was hopelessly insane, and she died three years 
 later in a violent fit of mania." 
 
 That is a sad story," said El Estranjero. "Why 
 have you told it to me, Alice?" 
 
 "Wait, it is not finished. There was a little girl. 
 Well, this child was adopted by an Indian chief and 
 roamed the woods and desert with the Indians until 
 she was grown to beautiful young womanhood. She 
 followed a war band to Elevado, and on the retreat, 
 a brave man, Estranjero by name, commanded a small 
 party of scouts that exterminated the band of Indians 
 and delivered the girl." 
 
 "Ah !" cried El Estranjero. "This is Nawona s his 
 tory. You have been telling me of her, poor child. 
 But, Alice, how did you find out all these things?" 
 
 "You have seen that?" Alice said, producing from 
 the chatelaine bag at her belt the golden disk with the 
 old English "G" in diamonds. 
 
THE EEVELATION 
 
 281 
 
 "Yes, Nawona showed it to me. It is a rarely 
 beautiful trinket." 
 
 "This the chief took from her dead mother and wore 
 until his death; and Nawona wore it one night when 
 Mrs. Anderson first came, and at once my friend 
 recognized it as a gift she herself had made to Mary 
 Carter on the day she married Joseph Gratton." 
 
 "How very strange," mused El Estranjero, turning 
 the locket in his hand curiously. 
 
 "The strangest part is yet to come. Does the locket 
 remind you of anything?" 
 
 "Nothing," replied Estranjero in surprise. 
 
 "Let me have it," Alice requested. 
 
 He laid it in her hand. She pressed the central 
 diamond, the little lever sprang out, she raised it, the 
 locket opened, and Estranjero stared as Alice handed 
 it back to him. 
 
 "Look here," she said, her voice thrilling with 
 excitement, "look and tell me, did you ever see either of 
 those faces before?" 
 
 "The woman s face certainly does bear a strong 
 resemblance to Nawona s face, but I cannot recall who 
 it is." 
 
 "Look, look carefully," urged Alice. 
 
 Long he studied the fair miniatures of the woman 
 and man, then he quietly closed the locket and gave it ? 
 to Alice. She sank tremblingly into the chair, a great 
 
 r 
 
 wave of feeling surging over her. She would make 
 yet another effort. 
 
 She bent forward and took both of his hands in 
 
282 
 
 EL ESTRANJERO 
 
 hers. "Estranjero," she said, "I want you to listen 
 now as you never listened before, and think now with 
 all the power of your mind, for my story is not yet 
 done." 
 
 Something of her own excitement seemed to pass 
 through him. 
 
 "Joseph ! I have not yet told you of Joseph !" 
 
 "But Joseph was killed by the Indians." 
 
 "He was struck down by a bullet, but he was not 
 killed." Alice returned slowly. "How many hours he 
 lay there in the rain I cannot tell you, neither can I 
 tell you of the long weary miles of desert and moun 
 tain he passed over, before, fainting and almost dead, 
 he came to the bank of a little stream where a horse 
 was grazing. By some means he tangled himself in 
 the tie rope that the horse was staked with, and he 
 was dragged unconscious and almost dying to the 
 very steps of the veranda there." 
 
 Estranjero was white as death, his limbs shook 
 under him, his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. 
 
 The last few sentences had told him the object of 
 Alice s story. He was Joseph Gratton, Mary was his 
 wife, Nawona was his little daughter long lost and 
 completely hidden by the mists that had enshrouded 
 him. He bent his face and covered it with his hands, 
 leaning his elbows upon his knees. Long he sat thus, 
 Alice s whole soul going out to him in the agony of 
 her love. 
 
 Finally he stood up, and Alice arose and stood facing 
 him. 
 
THE KEVELATION 283 
 
 "Alice," he cried, "can this be true?" 
 
 She opened the locket again and pointed to the 
 miniature of the man. 
 
 "Estranjero," she breathed, "that is your own face 
 there, and Mrs. Anderson recognized you the moment 
 she saw you. She knew you from the time you were 
 a tiny child, she knew your whole story up to the time 
 you started for the West, and I have all the proofs 
 here," and she touched the chatelaine bag. "We wrote 
 to Washington and had a search made of the records." 
 
 "Alice, I swear to you before my God, that I can 
 recall absolutely nothing of all my life, as you have 
 told it to me. Even now with every effort you have 
 made, and I see now why your story was told in such 
 detail, I cannot remember the smallest thing, the least 
 incident, the faintest glimmering of any life other 
 than that which" began when I opened my eyes in that 
 room yonder." 
 
 "Estranjero, there can be no doubt that you are 
 Joseph Gratton. Not only are there arrears of salary 
 amounting to many thousand dollars, but the Gratton 
 plantation in Virginia belongs to you. Your father and 
 mother have been dead for years, and you were their 
 only child." 
 
 "Alice, Alice," Estranjero murmured, "I am stunned 
 with all this, but the thread of my memory of the past 
 seems broken entirely. I cannot remember I cannot 
 remember one single thing." 
 
 He sank upon the bench that ran around the side of 
 the summerhouse, and again covered his face. This 
 

 
 ESTRANJERO 
 
 time Alice, trembling with happiness, sank down 
 beside him. She put her arm about his neck and laid 
 her head against his shoulder. 
 
 Swiftly he turned, drew her to his breast, and with 
 his arms about her, looked into her happy eyes. 
 
 "Alice, Alice," he whispered. 
 
 "Oh, my beloved, I thank God for the affliction that 
 makes you so wholly mine." Alice returned softly. 
 "I had thought perhaps I might tell you this story in 
 such a way that your past would come back to you. I 
 meant to be faithful to the task, but you can t know 
 what I suffered when I thought that the sweep of the 
 | tide of memory of your love for Mary would carry all 
 ; thoughts of me forever out of your heart." 
 
 "Oh, Alice!" he replied, "I wish no past that is not 
 ^connected with you, no present where you are not, no 
 future without you. You have told me that once I 
 |had a wife, that I fondly loved and that she is dead. 
 !l do not mourn the love that is to me as if it never 
 had been. You have told me that I am the father of 
 Nawona; I have felt drawn to her with a feeling of 
 protection from the first, but there is never a look 
 or glance that can recall to my mind that gentle woman 
 who was her mother. I have no more knowledge of 
 that time and those happenings than though they 
 occurred in another life." 
 
 She smiled up at him. "Alice," he whispered, "I 
 have loved you from the morning that I met you there 
 at the gate, and you walked forth like a young goddess 
 to meet the sunrise. I have loved you every hour 
 
THE KEVELATION 
 
 285 
 
 since, and I have suffered in that love and tried to 
 renounce it, but the mere sight of you would call it 
 all back in its poignancy." 
 
 "And I, too, Estranjero," she replied, "I, too, have 
 suffered. I thought of you constantly, and I have 
 loved you, too, since that morning." 
 
 "And now, Alice," he went on, "I am no longer 
 nameless and penniless, there is now no longer need 
 of my going forth to win fortune and place to lay them 
 at your feet. Alice, will you come forever to the heart 
 that hungers for you?" 
 
 She raised her face to meet his, and upon her lips 
 he placed the reverent seal of their betrothal. 
 
 19 
 
CHAPTER XLIV 
 
 A PUEBLO WEDDING 
 
 Alice and El Estranjero sat long in the summer- 
 house by the hedge, talking of the past and planning 
 the future. The letter containing the records of the 
 War Department was carefully read again and again, 
 and it was decided that it would be best to forward to 
 Mrs. Anderson s brother an account of Estranjero s 
 life since coming to Elevado, and leave it to the 
 Department to grant such back pay as would cover 
 as nearly as could be estimated the period of his active 
 military service. 
 
 Alice could not move Estranjero by any argument 
 to make further demand, but he finally agreed that the 
 whole matter of his back pay should be left to the dis 
 cretion of the friend who had so far examined the 
 records and was in the best position to know what was 
 really just. 
 
 Estranjero rejoiced that this sum of ready money 
 would make it possible for him to marry Alice as soon 
 as he received it, and decided to remain at the Hoi- 
 comb home until that time. 
 
 As Alice replaced the letter in her chatelaine bag, 
 when they arose to go back to the house, she felt a 
 little orangewood box. She brought it out and handed 
 it to Estranjero. 
 
 "What is it, dear?" he said. 
 
 [286] 
 
A PUEBLO WEDDING 
 
 287 
 
 "Open it," Alice rejoined, laughing. 
 
 He did so, and found there the horsehair ring made 
 so long ago. 
 
 "And you have kept it all these years?" he said. 
 "Do you remember the words you dictated to me then, 
 Alice? I can say them now with a full heart." And 
 taking her in his arms, beneath the orange tree, he 
 tried to place the ring upon her finger, as he repeated 
 the vow; but the ring was too small even for the 
 slender hand, and so he begged Alice to give it back 
 to him as a memento to be worn some day upon his 
 watch chain. 
 
 One thing they had decided in that long conference 
 in the arbor, and that was to keep their affair a secret 
 for the present. The next morning, however, an event 
 transpired that made further secrecy impossible. 
 
 They were all standing upon the veranda after 
 breakfast, when a messenger rode up with a package 
 for Mrs. Anderson. She returned to her own room 
 to break the seal, and when she came out again her 
 face was shining with joy. 
 
 Alice had told her that she had related Estranjero s 
 past life to him. Mrs. Anderson had told Mr. Holcomb 
 of her brother s investigation into El Estranjero s 
 record while Estranjero and Alice were together in the 
 enchanted summerhouse. Philip already knew the 
 story from Nawona, but as yet neither had been 
 informed that Estranjero had been made acquainted 
 with his past. 
 
 All were upon the veranda when Mrs. Anderson 
 
288 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 again appeared. She walked straight to Estranjero 
 and placed the package in his hand. 
 
 "Joseph/ she said, "my brother decided to push 
 your affairs without delay, and he was so successful 
 that here is ten thousand dollars back pay." 
 
 Estranjero looked at the packet an instant, then, 
 seeing nothing but Alice s happy look, he dropped it 
 at her feet, and there, before them all, he took her into 
 his arms. 
 
 "Oh, my darling, see," he cried, "you know what 
 that money means to us." 
 
 Holcomb stared in astonishment, and Alice, covered 
 with blushes, extricated herself from her lover s 
 embrace and threw her arms about her father s neck. 
 
 "Yes, my darling, I know," said her father, half 
 gladly and half sadly. 
 
 Nawona came up and twined her arm within that 
 of Estranjero. 
 
 "Oh, my dear friend and father," she murmured, 
 "I am so happy for you." 
 
 He bent and kissed her. "I have no memory of your 
 childhood or of your mother, Nawona. Even though 
 I have kind friends, and in you and Philip loving 
 children, my life would be very lonely were it not for 
 my dear Alice." 
 
 So on Christmas day there were to be two weddings 
 in the house in the patio, for Estranjero pleaded hard 
 and would not be denied. They would be married 
 when Nawona and Philip exchanged their vows, and 
 would immediately visit the Virginia plantation to 
 
A PUEBLO WEDDING 289 
 
 establish Estranjero s right and sell the property; 
 for neither he nor Alice would consider residing any 
 where but in the pueblo where they had first found and 
 loved one another, and Holcomb desired that they 
 should come back and make their home with him in 
 the house that would otherwise be desolate. 
 
 Christmas in California is the time when the first of 
 the winter rains have called out of the bosom of the 
 earth its sleeping verdure, and the white roads are 
 hard and dustless, the air like wine, the barley fields 
 either just turned up by the plow or showing their 
 ravishing green, and the chaparral alive with the song 
 of birds. The new-born soul of Nature sings "peace 
 upon earth and good will to men," and upon such a 
 Christmas day the pueblo of Elevado was all astir. 
 
 The wedding was to be the occasion of a fiesta that ^ 
 was to bring the neighbors, both Spanish and Gringo,^ 
 for miles around, into touch with one another. There 
 was to be a barbecue in the afternoon, tilting at the 
 ring, and the other Spanish sports common to a great v j 
 fiesta, and at night there was to be dancing in the $ 
 patio, floored and decorated for the occasion, and a 
 never-to-be-forgotten feast upon the veranda. 
 
 This was a Christmas day that seemed to be created 
 for such festivities. Early in the morning the company 
 of cavalry that had scouted over the mountains 
 returned dusty and weary to Elevado, but all thought 
 of fatigue was soon forgotten as the officers and men 
 freed themselves from the signs of the campaign and 
 made themselves neat and spruce for the occasion. 
 
290 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 Great was Colonel Anderson s surprise when told 
 the singular history of the man his company had 
 rescued from death at the stake, and all that had 
 befallen him since he last had seen him a lad in his 
 father s house. 
 
 There is no need to describe in detail the fiesta of 
 that Christmas day. Again the brush wickiups were 
 built along the riverside. Again the long trenches 
 were dug for the barbecuing of the meat, and the 
 Spanish musicians, dressed in their gorgeous costumes, 
 appeared with their mandolins and guitars, ready to 
 dispense the music of the dance. 
 
 All day in wagons, carriages, and on horseback the 
 people of the valley assembled, for there were few who 
 had not heard El Estranjero s history and did not 
 know that the nameless stranger, who had won their 
 regard in the years of his dwelling among them, was 
 now the bearer of an honored name and the owner of 
 a great landed property. 
 
 Francesca was resplendent that day in a new scarlet 
 gown and green kerchief, a present from Alice. Her 
 psychic sympathy with Estranjero was known only to 
 the inmates of the Holcomb house, but they looked 
 upon her with peculiar reverence, thinking how humble 
 is the instrument often chosen to reveal the mysteries 
 of life. 
 
 Vera, too, was conspicuous in a yellow gown and 
 blue kerchief; but it was Juan, in a brand new suit of 
 store clothes that came all the way from the pueblo 
 of Los Angeles, who, barring the two bridegrooms 
 
A PUEBLO WEDDING 291 
 
 themselves, was the happiest man present upon that 
 happy day. 
 
 Juan was known to all the Spanish neighbors far and 
 near, and clusters of these would form about him and 
 beg him to relate again the tale of how the two Senors 
 were captured, how he rode over the mountains and 
 met the soldiers, and how they were released. Other 
 story-tellers were there that day, and while the young 
 people strolled, flirted, and danced, their elders heard 
 with deepest interest the adventures by flood and field 
 of the heroes of this tale, and added stories of their 
 own experience, none the less true and interesting. 
 
 The barbecue was to be at noon, and the wedding 
 at sunset. Holcomb was everywhere busy among his 
 guests, but the actors in the wedding scene still were 
 secluded from view. Many of the people present had 
 never seen either Nawona or Alice, and were eager to 
 look upon the brides. 
 
 With what emotions Alice robed Estranjero s 
 daughter for her bridal can be understood by those 
 who have followed the progress of her own love. The 
 sweetness of Nawona, her youth and her love for 
 Philip, recalled the story of that fair dead woman 
 who was her mother. The locket that held her mother s 
 face was the young bride s only ornament, and, as she 
 stood there in all her fairness, Alice took her in her 
 arms, and with tears in her eyes, blessed her. 
 
 "Oh, little rose of the desert," she said, "may you 
 bloom in new beauty in the garden into which Philip <8 
 transplants you." 
 
292 
 
 EL ESTEANJERO 
 
 "And you, dear Alice, to whom I owe so much, your 
 life must be very happy to return to you the measure 
 of happiness you have given to others. I owe you so 
 much; how can I ever repay you?" 
 
 "By loving me," replied Alice, "and taking me into 
 the place of the mother you lost so long ago." 
 
 They stood gazing at each other, both in simple 
 white gowns, with orange flowers gathered from their 
 own orchard, twined in their hair, and white roses 
 from their own garden in a great sheaf for each, ready 
 to their hand. Then there was a tap at the door and 
 Philip, in his wedding finery, looked in. He was 
 visibly nervous and spoke hoarsely to Alice. 
 
 "I want to ask you something; come here into the 
 hall a moment." 
 
 Alice went out, closed the door behind her, a little 
 startled at his manner. 
 
 "Alice," he said desperately, "tie this necktie or I 
 will hang myself with it in despair. I have tied 
 it, I know, forty times, and look at it." 
 
 Alice laughed merrily. 
 
 "Oh, Laddie, it does look awful, but I ll have it 
 right for you in a jiffy. There," and she patted the 
 finished bow, "you re all right." 
 
 "Gracious! Chummie, how splendid you are in that 
 white dress. But I want to tell you that I m scared 
 to death, and if Nawona will come, I ll run away with 
 her, and then I won t have to face the crowd." 
 
 Nawona now peered out to see what was the reason 
 this long conference, and Philip embraced her 
 
A PUEBLO WEDDING 
 
 293 
 
 rapturously, but Alice stamped her little foot in mock 
 anger. 
 
 "Drop her, Philip, drop her I say. If you rumple 
 her, there won t be any wedding." Then taking the 
 laughing girl by the hand, she again led her to her 
 own room. 
 
 Scarcely were they settled again, when there was 
 another tap at the door, and this time Nawona went 
 forward. Estranjero stood at the door and beckoned 
 her. She gave a mischievous glance toward Alice, 
 and shut the door behind her, as she stepped into the 
 passage. 
 
 "Nawona, dear," he said, "I d like you to look me 
 over, and see if I seem all right. I never wore such 
 clothes as these before, and I feel some way as if they 
 were not my own." 
 
 "You are all right, Estranjero," said Nawona, 
 smiling. She could not learn to call him father. 
 
 Just then the Spanish musicians in tile patio struck 
 up the wedding march, and Philip, coming swiftly 
 down the passage, clasped Nawona s hand. "It is 
 time," he whispered, "my little bride, it is time." 
 
 Estranjero softly turned the knob and opened the 
 door. Alice, pale and lovely, stood in the corner of 
 the room. He reached out his hands to her. "Alice," 
 he said, "come." 
 
 And so they went and stood before the chancel made 
 of pepper boughs, under a canopy of roses and orange 
 flowers, and just as the last words of the benediction 
 upon their new life were pronounced the mocking bird 
 
 
 
294 
 
 EL ESTEANJEEO 
 
 in the rosebush began to trill his melody. Alice s 
 gaze sought that of her husband. Both thought of 
 the moonlight night when he had said : "Alice, my 
 soul is calling you." Looking into the depths of her 
 sweet eyes, he now read his answer, and knew that 
 nevermore would he be to her "El Estranjero," the 
 stranger. 
 
 I/ENVOI 
 
 There are persons who will read this tale and 
 declare that Francesca s perception of those events 
 relating to Estranjero was wholly created by the 
 author and has no foundation in fact. They will say, 
 too, that a loss of memory, whether it be complete or 
 partial, is a self-evident symptom of insanity and must 
 be progressive until the diseased brain becomes the 
 mind-organ of a maniac. 
 
 Such statements are fully controverted by the 
 researches of modern science. Double personality is 
 such a common phenomenon that it is recognized as a 
 leading psychic element in crime. 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson showed in "Dr. Jekyll and 
 Mr. Hyde" how two individuals dwelt in the same 
 person and gave an objective and subjective conscious 
 ness wholly out of touch with one another, as in some 
 forms of mental disease. 
 
 Many people have been so affected by a long fever 
 that they have no real memory of what happened 
 before, their imagination furnishing the details of that 
 part of their life, and through the constantly recalling 
 
L ENVOI 295 
 
 by those around them of places and people they once 
 knew, they reconstruct their past, but do not really 
 remember it. 
 
 The strange surroundings in which Estranjero found 
 himself of course made such reconstruction impossible. 
 
 Again these objectors may urge that such telepathic 
 communications as are described in the experiences of 
 Francesca, are mere figments of the imagination. The 
 science of the mind is still in its infancy and none is 
 bold enough to assert what it may yet disclose. 
 
 Some of our most learned and scientific theorists 
 have advanced the idea of mental telepathy, which has 
 been accepted by not a few of our more progressive 
 thinkers. There are many who would state from the 
 existing body of testimony that no further proof is 
 necessary to convince the investigating student that 
 such communication has taken place. 
 
 There are many writers on psychic phenomena who 
 claim that such communication has been proven over 
 and over again, and that on this subject there can be 
 no grounds for argument. I myself have known of 
 instances of that character so thoroughly verified that 
 they hardly admitted of a doubt. A friend of mine 
 who was staying with me in New York City years 
 before I came to the Coast had what he believed to be 
 a dream, which he related the next morning at the 
 breakfast table. He said that his brother, a widower, 
 who was living in Australia, appeared to him in the 
 might, and told him that he was sick and that he did 
 not expect to live, and asked his brother to come to 
 
296 
 
 EL ESTBANJERO 
 
 Australia and take his little baby girl and care for her. 
 So deeply impressed was my friend by this dream, 
 that he wrote to friends in Sydney, asking them for a 
 word about his brother s health, and in reply 
 received word of his death. Mr. Nichols that 
 was my friend s name afterwards read the letter to 
 me. It was indeed a strong confirmation of the 
 theory of mental telepathy. His brother had died a 
 few days after this so-called dream. On his deathbed 
 he told his attendants and physicians that he had a 
 brother living in New York, who would come for the 
 little one, as he had seen him and begged him to do so. 
 As his brother was still alive when my friend had the 
 dream, it could not have been his disembodied spirit 
 that appeared; and I cannot conceive of any other 
 method of communication than that of mental 
 telepathy. 
 
 I have sat before the grate fire with my wife or 
 some friend, dreamily gazing into the fire, when some 
 event suddenly would intrude upon my thoughts, 
 and when I turned to tell my companion found that 
 the same idea had occurred to her or him at precisely 
 the same moment. I suppose most of you have had the 
 same experience in thought waves, though possibly 
 not giving such phenomena much attention, or 
 endeavoring to study out the philosophy of mental 
 telepathy from a scientific standpoint. 
 
 I could cite many well authenticated instances of 
 communication from mind to mind, but will call your 
 attention only to one other such incident. An 
 
L ENVOI 297 
 
 acquaintance of mine, staying at the Astor in New 
 York, was taken violently ill at the hotel, and during 
 his illness was in a frame of mind closely bordering on 
 insanity. During one day and night of this time he 
 tossed backward and forward from side to side of 
 his bed, calling repeatedly for his wife, who was 
 then staying with friends in New Orleans. So pitiful 
 did his pleadings for his wife become that I determined 
 to wire her the third day if he was no better. 
 
 Up to this time I had refrained from doing so, for 
 fear of giving her a shock, not believing his life was 
 in serious danger. The third day he seemed so much 
 better that I decided not to wire, and about noon felt 
 free to go out for a little fresh air. I had gotten 
 as far as the office of the hotel, when I was met by a 
 bellboy with a telegram which proved to be from his 
 wife, and the contents of which so impressed me at the 
 time that I am able to repeat it at this day. It read : 
 
 "Is anything the matter with Arthur ? Have dread 
 ful dreams. Seem to hear him calling. Am, greatly 
 worried. Answer at once. 
 
 MRS. ARTHUR SINCLAIR/ 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair are both still living and will 
 at any time verify this statement. 
 
 Many writers on psychic occulta believe that subjec 
 tive mentality may influence thought in receptive minds 
 when the objective being is in a dormant state or 
 past the power of intelligent action. It has ever been 
 demonstrated that one mind can act as a medium for 
 
298 EL ESTRANJEEO 
 
 the transmission of thought to a third through sub 
 jective consciousness without the aid of objective 
 faculties. Indeed, this has occurred without the knowl 
 edge of the objective consciousness being sufficient 
 for retention in the objective memory. This thought 
 action has been brought about by hypnotic influence, 
 and many experiments, both in private and public, have 
 demonstrated it. 
 
 It was perfectly possible for Estranjero to exert this 
 influence unconsciously, and without his own volition, 
 and thousands of cases of such telepathic influence 
 have occurred. There is nothing more natural to sup 
 pose than that the telepathic waves, like those of heat, 
 light, and electricity, would always seek the path of 
 least resistance. Thus Francesca s vision becomes a 
 recognized scientific fact and not the mere figment of a 
 romancer s fancy. 
 

 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
 
 
 1953 LU 
 23Feb 57LS 
 
 REC D LD 
 
 MAY 7 1957 
 
 DEC 10 1969 
 
 LD 21-100w-7, 52(A2528sl6)476 
 
M314155