The Florida agriculturist. [volume] (DeLand, Fla.) 1878-1911, 1895-01-30

the power to move me greatly since, though
this memory moves me day by day and
hour by hour, till I die and GO. to seek my
son.
Say, Bernal Diaz," I cried, with a
hoarse laugh, did I lie to you concerning
this cOmrade of yours?"
Then, springing over Otomie's body,
left the chamber, followed by Bernal Diaz
and the others.
Without the door turned to the left to-
ward the camp. had not gone 100 PAGES
when, in the moonlight, / saw q small
troop of horsemen riding toward us. 1t
was De Garcia and his servants, and they
headed toward the mountain pass on their
road to Mexico. was not too late.
"Halt!'' cried Bernal Diaz.
''Who commands me to halt?" cried the
voice of De Garcia.
Il, your captain" roared DiaZ. Halt,
you devil, you murderer, or you shall be
cut down."
saw him start and turn pale.
"These are strange manners, senior, he
said. 'Of your grace I ask
At this moment De Garcia caught sight
of me for the first time, for had broken
from the hold of Diaz, who clutched my
arm, and was moving toward him. said
nothing, but there was something in my
face which told him that knew all and
warned him of his doom. He looked past
me, but the narrow road was blocked with
men. drew near, but he did not wait for
me. Once he put his hand on the hilt of
his sword; then suddenly he wheeled his
horse and fled down the street of Xaca
De Garcia fled, and followed after him,
running fast and low, like hound. At
first he gained on me, but soon the road
grew rough, and he could not gallop over
it. We were clear Of the town now, or
rather of its ruins, and travelling along
little path which the Indians used to bring
down snow from Xaca in the hot weather.
Perhaps there are some five miles Of this
path before the snow line Is reached, be-
yond which no Indian dared to set his
foot, for the ground above was holy.
Along this path he went, and was con-
tent to see it, for I knew we'll that the
traveller cannot leave it, since on either
side lie watercourses and cliffs. Mile after
mile De Garcia followed it, looking now
to the left, now to the right and now
ahead at the great dome of snow crowned
with fire that lowered above him. He
knew what was there-death in the shape
of man!
I came on doggedly, saving my strength.
was sure that I must catch him at last,
it did not matter when.
At length he reached the snow line
where the path ended and for the first
time he looked back. There was some
200 PAGES behind him. l, his death, was
behind him, and in front of him shOne the
snow. For moment he hCsitatcd, and
heard the heavy breathing of his horse in
the great stiffness. Then he turned and
faced the slope, driving his spurs into the
brutes sides. The snow was hard, for
here the frost bit sharply, and for awhile,
though it was so steep, the horse Travelled
over it better than he had done along the
pathway. Now, as before, there was only
one road that he could take, for we passed
up the rest of a ridge, plait, as it were,
in the garment of mountain, and Oh
either side were sleeps of snow on which
neither horse nor man might keep his foot
ing. For two hours or moro VIC followed
that ridge, and as we went through the
silence of the haunted volcano and the lone
illness of it's eternal SHOWS it seemed to mo
that my spirit entered into the spirit of
my quarry, and that with it's eyes l saw
all that was passing in his heart.
Now the snow grew sleeper, and the
horse was almost spent, for he could scarce
ly breathe at so great height. In vain
did De Garcia drive his spurs into it's sides;
the gallant beast could do no more. Sud
denly it fell down. Surely, thought, he
will await me now But even I had not
Garcia disengaged himself from the fallen
Hol O., oo,l