Mrs. Grundy. (Tracy City, Tenn.) 1903-1930, 1904-03-17
CHONITA.

Mexican Sierras, about one DAYS
travel west of Guadalupery Calvo
the trail leading to Morales leaves
the ridge along which il climbs
and plunges down into the depths
of the Canon de Muerto, there
winding in and out amid the
pines and powders until reach
es the ford of a stream, the Rio
Chico, which rushes through the
gorge and on in its wild flight for
the sea.
Down this trail, late in the
afternoon of a day some few years
ago, rode a young man, Jack
Rawlston, the new manager of
the Alta Mining Company, then
on his way in to take charge of
their mines near Morales. He
was wrapped close in an oilskin
slicker, for the raia was falling
as it falls only in the mountains
of Mexico. Reaching the ford he
drew his mule in under the shell
ter of an overhanging bluff and
impatiently awaited the coming
of his men, whose shouts and
curses could be heard in the can
onside above as they urged to
| greater speed some half a dozen
pack animals, slowly picking
their way down the slippery trail.
As they drew near, one of the
men, Pancho, who acted as a
guide, hurried to Rawlston's side
and, pointing to the stream, now
a rushing torrent, cried: "Val-
game Dios, the Little River is
very great this day. There is
much water, senior, and deep. We
no can cross; not until tomorrow
when it will be we'll. 81, senior,
en- 10 manana sta 'ueno."
Eyes, but tonight, man. We
can't camp here; there is not
enough level ground to raise a
tent on. Get us out of this" ex-
claimed Rawlston.
"Senor," replied the man, as
he drew his wet serape closer
about him, "a little rancho lies
down the river short way where
lives Juan Montana. Will the
senior 60 there?"
"Will the senior 90 there !"
shouted Rawlston. eyes, con-
found you, hombre, the senior
will. Move on!"
With a cry of "Ad-e-lan-te
Vamonasr" and swearing great
mouth filling Mexican oaths at
his assistants as well as at the
mules, Pancho started the train
down the canon on its way to a
little valley of just few hun
dred acres, nestled there where
the gorge widened out as either
wall spread away in great broken
ridges, sweeping grandly off to
the south.
1t was hardly a rancho, this
place of Juan Montana, only a
few patches of growing maize
and frijoles, amid which, in a
grove of pines, rested house of
logs with a wide portico roughly
matched with bundles of corn
stalks, while a jacal-a rooted
palisade of poles, chinked and
covered with abode mud-ad-
Joined the house on one side,
serving as a kitchen.
As Rawlston, leading the way,
approached from across the val
ley, a dog gave the alarm, and an
elderly man, Juan himself, muf-
fled in serape and slowly puff
ing a cigarrito, came out into the
portico, while at the low door
way of the jacal, amid the whiffs
of smoke within, appeared a
brown-faced woman, and behind
her three girls, shyly peeping
forth at the stranger as he drew
I'D and asked for accommodation
for the night.
Isl, senor," replied Juan, in
response to his request. obs
mount and come in from the rain.
Ny house is at your service; en-
trar, senior, entrar," and he took
the Winchester that Rawlston
handed him, giving it a lingering
glance as he placed it carefully
against the wall.
"And supper, senor," he con-
tinued, twill you have supper?