Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-04-27
THE OPAL SKULL.

THE OPAL SKULL.
OF all places to Cypress one with the
fruitlessness of life there is none like unto
the southern portion Of the Colorado river.
Other rivers, notably such one as the
ella, may flow through as barren a coun-
try, but the desolation is different. 1t is
suggestive of what is yet to be, while the
Colorado, at the south, rolls lifelessly
through a land that is of past SO hope
lessly dead, so far away that there is nei-
ther memory of it remaining nor chance Of
resurrection of it's vanished bones. There
seems always to be visible from it's banks
if banks they can be called-some faint,
blue gray mountain peak off in the dis
lance, beyond the plain with it's rare
groups of cottonwoods and it's occasional
lonely adobe And there is something that
makes one sad and restless in the sight of
those misty lines of mountains, something
thousandfold more depressing than in a
prairie that meets it's own unbroken hOri-
ION.
Evening, which seems the only time
that should ever be there was coming
upon this country of forgotten cons. There
was no color anywhere. The yellow of the
sky was only a pale glimmer over the
whitening blue, the green Of the trees was
dulled by the dust and the twilight, the
country was q level, dun stretch and the
mountains, far, far away, were only q
shading of uncertain blue. There was but
one house in sight, an adobe 400 yards or
less from the river, but there was no sign
Or sound of life except the quiet rafting Of
the cottonwood leaves in the evening wind.
Yet in among the willows by the river
was a small, canvas covered wagon. Two
thin bronchos were hobbled near by, and a
man was gathering sticks for a fire. There
was little dry wood SO near the stream,
and he went out into the open in front Of
the adobe. He was in no hurry. All the
night was before him, so he stood, with his
thumbs hooked in his cartridge belt, look
ing at the house. He wondered If it would
be worth his while to make the acquaint-
ance Of the ''greasers" who undoubtedly
inhabited it.
They might offer him hospitality for the
night, but he had learned by experience
that Mexican hospitality usually implies
dirt, and he disliked dirt. It was ques-
ton in his mind whether blanket under
the wagon would not be preferable. And
while he debated the fiat board door Of the
adobe opened, and woman came out. She
was slender, therefore she was young. So
reasoned the man, who knew Mexicans.
More than that he could not see. After u
time she went back into the house, and no
fell to gathering sticks
When the moon rose and he, having fin
ished his supper, was sitting beside the
dying campfire, peacefully smoking, the
low willows parted, and the girl of the
adobe stood near him. She was pretty in
the ideal Mexican way-red and full lip
ped, brightly colored large eyed, with two
great braids of purple black hair, and she
was dressed with surprising neatness in o
fresh white frock and crude pink ribbons.
"Ah, beg your pardon, senior knew
note Eat you wear hier, she cried, starting
back.
The man arose. He was aware that it
was totally improbable that she had not
seen him when she had been standing in
the doorway. He was also aware that she
must have observed the smoke Of his fire.
Nevertheless he spoke and said, "Senorita,
I will go away" And he stood quite still.
"Ah, no! Eet must be me to CO." And
she, too, stood still. ''Eet ees Eat come
each night hier to sect, an knew note Eat
you wear HER." she repeated.
1t gives me much pleasure to see you.
Will you not sit here with me?" He spread
blanket on the ground near the bright
Goals and motioned to her with deep bow
to be seated. She took her place, and he,
stretching himself at her feet, leaning
upon one elbow, offered her cigarette.
Her name, it transpired very soon, was
Anita-Anita >Manara. His, he told her,
was Richard Lowell They fell attacking,
and he did what was expected of him
made desperate love instantly-while she
did what he had expected her to do-re
sponded with only enough reserve to keep
up the illusion Of Irritation. Principles OF
severity may flourish upon mountain
heights, may withstand great temptation,
but on the southern prairies of summer
night, when the moon is full and shedding
gold light through the willows, and slow
river trickles by, and the only voices are
those of the crickets and of Mexican
woman, and the woman is beautiful, mo-
rality is at ebb tide, and principles melt like
hard, white pearls in wine. Here in the
half tropic southwest, with an unwise
child Of 16, Of an amorous race, the rather
lax code of honor of Richard Lowell fell
from him. She told him about her life.
II was born HER" she said, 'een Eat
house. But wen l twelf years am I to
San Diego go to school, an zere ! Eenglish
learn. I speak note much Eenglish now,
for Eat / have only my muzzer an my
bruzzer, who zey speake but Spanish, an
Carlos he can Eenglish speake, but he like
eet note. !"
who ia Carlos, sweetheart?"
"He ees my sweetheart, wat to marry
him am
"Where is he?'' The young man drew a
little away and sat erect.
He ees at re mines in Conception. He
hat one mine for him, an he weel be some
time reech. He come to sec me 70 Sunday.
Do you note Spanish speake-talk, sareY''
''No; just d few words And where Is
your brothers"
"He ees zis night far away. He weel
tomorro weeth Carlos come back.
Lowell understood. He resumed grudu-
ally his posture Of alteration. When the
cigarettes were finished, he held her hands,
and in time he put his arm about her and
kissed her and forgot all the maxims Of
wisdom that had ever been taught to him.
So they sat, to oil purposes alone IN the
prairie, che with her black head upon hi1