The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1892-06-22


en- the life Of the California dog. The
adobe soil cracked anew under the pitt
less sun, the whitewash on the outer
walls of the big adobe house arose in
plisters. The undulating line of brown
hills which encircled the Rancho del
Fuego were dim under the materialized
heat; the creek was dry; the little brown
nuts OF the rancheria in the willows were
silent as tombs; even the Indians were
taking their siesta.
The visitor urged his tired and reek-
ing horse to what speed it was capable
OF, anxious to get under shelter himself.
AS he reached the corral he reused a
vaquero, sleeping beneath a tree, and
bade him follow and take charge of his
steed. At the long corridor of the
house he dismounted, and leaving the
horse to await the pleasure of the
Vaquero, entered hastily and without the
ceremony of knocking into the GOODNESS
OF the interior. Between these thick
adobe walls the climate was that of a
Northern country. He threw himself on
a sofa to rest and await the awakening
OF the family from the siesta. He had
taken his uncomfortable Journey in the
hot daytime rather than in the blackness
OF the night, for there would be no
moon for two weeks and his business
was urgent. But he was New Eng
land man and the California summer was
more than he could stand without pro-
test. 1t sent him to sleep. AS he slept
he snored, and in a few moments some
one might have been heard moving
lightly on the bare floor, behind the
thin door set midway In a wall some
three feet deep.
The door opened and girl entered
and stood gazing with an expression of
unmistakable repugnance at the sleeper.
She was beauty of the type so often
seen in California before and IN the early
days of the American occupation; dense
black hair that hung braided to the hem
of her white gown, eyes large, black,
with light in them that suggested an
uncomfortable rapidity of changes, deli
cate features, full, red mouth and white
skin, figure 1.-THE, graceful about the
whole an inde6nable atmosphere of hope
and sparkle and capacity for happiness.
She looked anything but happy, how
ever, as she gazed at the strong, shrewd
features of the sleeping visitor. Her
gaze may have been magnetic, for he sud
denly opened his eyes, then rose hastily
and greeted her with manners as good as
though less profuse than those of the
caballeros who had adored her since she
had heightened her frocks.
''Do not think me rude, nhe said. 81
did not wish to disturb any one, and
am afraid the heat overcame me and |
fell asleep"
81 am glad you Sleep" she said with
graceful but unsmiling hospitality. "No
one should be awake when it is so hot.
Sit down. NOT"
She took one of the ugly horse hair
chairs, he another facing her, and for a
moment they gazed silently at each other,
both somewhat defantly.
SIT no is proper / all you alone like
this" she said finally. "But l have
reason so l do it. And, scornfully,
''my father no care so much, suppose,
because is you. Now, l tell you whattee
"NN' SS5 JNNi ~ Vh my hhSSsi 81
you like it, to no come here any more
and ask my father ST you can marry me.
l no love you at all. Never can love
you. l love-always l have love-An-
tonic Rivera. He no have the moneys
now; the Americanos take all, but my
father letting us marry 81 you no coming
and spoil all. Ay, senorl Col Col No
maka me so sorryW Sic leaned forward
and clasped her hands, the tears splash
ing; she was a charming picture.
The American regarded the floor for
moment, let his eyes dwell on her once
more, then shook his head
''No," he said. "You are the only
woman ever wanted, dear Dona Amata,
and / cannot give you up. have the
less scruple, because l know that you
will be far happier with me than with
your idle, shiftless Spanish lover"
But he was not allowed TO proceed.
Dona Amata sprang to her feet aud beat
her little hands clinched together.
''No say one word by him l' she cried,
her voice choked with wrath, her eyes