Lawrence democrat. (Lawrenceburg, Tenn.) 1884-1925, 1896-02-28


monga were taking on the purple hues
of the distant canyons word was
brought that the stars and stripes of
Los Estados Unidos haf been raised
at Monterey, Don Tiburcio said moth
ing, but the next day announced to
Marianita that he must journey to Los
Angeles. Close as was the tie which
bound these two, the traditional pride
and faith of her race perm tied no doubt
nor further question than the simple:
"Am To go with you, parasito?" When
the hesitating reply came. mo, can
not very well take you, hiji mia," this
proud little descendant Of old CASTLE
thought for only moment, 81 wonder
'why?" then dismissed the subject from
her mind, and sent her father upon his
journey with close abrazo and tender
words of farewell.
Don Tiburcio journeyed to the pueblo
without adventure or mlshap. Two
amigos viejos, apprised OF his arrival
by one of his household servants, dined
with him al fresco, and as they smoked
their cigaritos under the shadow of
the orange tree, California's position
in the present struggle between Mexico
and Los Estados was discussed with
great warmth. AT length, when the
lateness of the hour penetrated the
consciousness of their heated spirits,
the two friends arose, and with the for
NAL courtesy which the closest init
macy never alters, babe their host q
"Buenas noc''es, Don Tlburcio, voya
V'd con Dios manana" ("Good night,
Don Tiburcio, God be with you to-mor-
row'). He had not disclosed, even to
these two tried and true old friends,
the object Of his visit to Ike pueblo.
In that darkest hour before the dawn,
when all his household slumbered, Don
Tiburcio arose. listened for q moment,
and finding all still, crept cautiously
out into the wide hall of the house.
Noiselessly drawing the bolt of the
outer door, he glided around the east
corner of the house to the servants
quarters. Here again all was still, save
for the occasional mutterings of the
sleepers within.
"Domingo!" whispered Don Thur
clio, and out of the darkness tall figure
arose and stole silently toward him.
With no further word OF sign the two
passed away toward the stables. Here
Domingo drew out a cumbrous four
wheeled "carreta del Iais," which
rolled out with dismal creakings. Hur.
riedly oiling the numbering vehicle, SC
that its complainings were instantly
hushed, he yoked to it pair of we'll
fed. slow.moving oxen. Then, always
with quick, gliding motions, he sad
died Don Tiburcio's horse, and just a:
the day was lighting up the crown OF
El VieJo Calvo, master and servant
passed out of the great gate, the mas
ter astride his favorite horse Paloma
his Indian attendant walking beside
| the cumbrous carreta, which contained
beside large metal box, with strong
brass clasps, pickaXes and shovels O.
various sizes and degrees Of strength.
Slowly they wendell thcirway toward
the Rancho de San Jose, and as they
rode the golden glory of the day gildet
the crests of the Sierra Madre. Rev
erently Don Tiburcio raised his broat
sombrero, and the silent but observan
Indian clasped his arms and dropped
his head upon his breast. The oXer
stood still. With his eyes upon tn,
glory-crowned Sierra, Don Tiburcit
chanted his morning prayer of praise
and thanksgiving, to which the Indian
added a low-toned amen, and, quietly
laying his hand upon the nearest o
the oxen, they resumed their SLOW
journey.
The sun rose high in the heavens
the purple canyons of the still distan
mountains grew hazy with the day
feat, and the long line of hills to TIT
south grew faint and indistirct. Slow
| iy, slowly the sun passed over thei
heads and sank down below the leve
horizon. A cool breeze came light,
toward them. The glow of the sunse
died, and the dusk, like a mist, softl,
fell and wrapped them within impalpa
lie, invisible folds, through which TIL
light breeze foated like the touch o
a spirit that wanders.
In silence they journeyed, the Indian
moving like a shadow beside the slow
rolling carreta, while the stars fun,
down soft white light like the CLEAN
of the blooms in the orange groves. TIL
indian and the master, each in his ow
way, felt the silent power of the force
of the night; perhaps within the In
dams untutored soul it stirred tn
wider depths of poetry. But he gay
no sign, only patiently guided the plod
ding oxen.
The stars paled, and as the gray ligh
CT another dawn lifted the shadow
mists from the cornfelds and vine
yards Domingo and his master halle
under the old Encino del Tinaje. Her
Domingo's face took on its first expires
sion of wonder, as Don Tiburcio said t
him:
"Here, Domingo, take my horse, rid
on to Cucamonga, and bring back wit
you fresh pair of Oxen"
With no further expression of his a.
tonishment than that vague look of SUI
prise, the Indian quietly mounted, LITE
his hat and, with courteous "Adoi
senor," passed off to the northwar,
where the mountains doomed up in dar
and splendid grandeur. Arriving q
The rancho, he handed over the master
horse to lounging Indian boy, quietl
ordered another to bring ouI the fires
yoke of oxen, saying: The carreta
heavy and our oxen grew weary" ant
taking neither rest nor refreshmen
set out to meet his master. They me
four miles from the ranch, on the on
skirts of the wood. The Indians quic