The Republican., 1894-02-15

with u.s." said l.
No doubt it would be treat for
her, poor girl" my wife responded.
Come here, little one" beckoning the
child to seat by her side. do you
never get lonely here by yourself?"
'Ah, no, sonora! l have always this"
stretching out her hands with tender
gesture toward the sea. II had mur-
INJURED her cradle lullaby, and she knew
and loved its varying moods.
''Then there are many people here in
summer, and often they speak with me;
when they come no more l gather my
shells and help mend the nets"
Have you no playmates?'
II had a sister once-she died"
softly.
Il will be your sister, Mercedes"
cried Lily, impulsively.
80 you shall, dear" said l. "Ah!
there is Pacheco homeward- bound with
fine string of fish," and waylaying
the childs father, told him our plans
respecting Mercedes, to which he gave
ready consent.
There was quite a gathering of ma
tives about the hotel in the morning to
wish US "Buenos dias" as our cavalcade
set out, led by Mexican Joe, a vener-
able islander, who was to act in the ca
pacity of cook and general utility man.
We were to make the trip by easy
stages, stopping over night at the In
dian mounds, Il place | had long con-
templated visiting.
Joe assured me that he knew the
mound locality well, and confident that
a rich harvest would reward the dill
gent eXplorcr-for stone implements,
beads. bits of wampur, and even the
skulls and bones of departed warriors
had been uncarthcd by the ISLANDERS
l added pick and shovel to our camp
ing outfit
The trail, following the coast, was
ascending and sometimes wound peril
ously near the edge Of the cliff. Look
| ing down a hundred feet or more, one
could see the foaIning breakers dash
| ing on the rocks below. Everything
delighted the children; they laughed
and chatted and sang until we caught
their merry mood, and a gay party we
were, indeed.
The sun was high in the heavens
when we arrived at the mounds, so,
with appetites made keen by the lO:<,
ride in the bracing morning air, we set
about preparing the midday meal. Old
Joe lilnped away to gather firewood;
nv wife summoned the children, who
were culling the golden poppies that
grew in profusion along the cliffs edge,
to help uppacll the lunch while |, jug
in hand, made for 4 canyon near by in
search of water. | found triclIling
stream dripping from the moss-clad
powders, and the jag was soon filed.
1t might have been fifteen minutes be-
fore left the canyon; as soon as came
in sight of camp | knew that some
thing was amiss Old Joe ran toward
me, shouting and notionIng wildly: on
the verge of the cliff | saw my wife
lneelng, Mercedes beside her, but
where was Lily?
In an instant I realized the worst
Lily had fallen from the cliff. My
! -H------,--, A------e- =
thought, and I called to my wife be-
seeching her to leave that awful place.
Why did she still l1neel and gaze down
upon the mangled form lying on the
cruel rocks?
''Senor," the old Mexican was say
ing, the child not hurt-shc cling to
the ledge. We must have ropesr
Alive! I grasped sturdy root and
swung myself over the abyss. Far be-
low, upon narrow, crumbling ledge,
| Lily lay, her fall arrested by dense
| growth of brush.
Quick. the ropcs.' shouted to Joe.
Tlhse used IN lashIng the burro's
pack in place were all we had. Joe
was rapidly knotting them together.
pray God they mEy not be too short"'
gasped the child's mother.
"Ah"' the Mexican exclaimed. ''the
rope too old. If the senor go down it
break"
Listen" cried Mercedes. The rope
will hold me. l will go to her"
Even as she spoke we slipped the
moose under her arms, and, as we
graspcd the rope, swung off the rock.
| would not live those moments again
for wealth untold.
Would the rope reach Lily? Would
it bear the weight of both?
lncSe were tEe thoughts thdt almost
stopped my heart beats, while inch by
inch was lowered the brave child, per-
haps to her death.
At length the strain on the rope
ceased.
''She has reached the ledge" breathed
the trembling mother "She slips the
moose from her body and fastens it un-
der Lily's arms. Pull. PULL"
And we pulled, slowly, steadily, un-
til loving mother arms reached out and
drew the unconscious child from the
very brink of death, her tiny hand still
clenched about the brilliant hued pop
pies that had so nearly proved her de-
struction.
And now for one more effort! Would
the frayed strands part under the
heavier weight? In breathless silence
the rope was lowered, and we waited
the signal to pull up.
remember how, even at that mo-
ment the beauty of the scene appealed
to me.