The new era., 1910-08-25

wearing sombreros. sat upon the lit
tie burros between huge baskets. car
rying beautiful brown babies in their
arms, while larger brown babies clung
on behind.
We illustrated the old fable of the
hare and the SNAIL we and a bright
looking peon Of the best type. whose
burro kept steadily on in its light
footed little trot while we varied our
progress between gallpping and walk
ing In one Of the passings, after the
courteous salutation, we entered into
conversation about the road to FL Des-
ierto; and remarking that the way
was long, he proceeded to describe
much nearer way by trail. cutoff
that left the main road some miles be-
fore the Ell Desierto road did.
The wooded mountains across tho
deep ravine appealed to us. and when
we came to the trail 1t also looked
tempting. SO we took our wayfarer's
advice and left the beaten track, soon
to find ourselves scrambling down
precipitous way leading our horses.
After crossing stream at the bottom
! of the canon, we mounted and fol-
| lowed the bank, entering pine forest
| through which we rode mile after
mile, momentarily expecting to see
the trail up the mountain We sought.
| We did find an ascending trail and
climbed a mountain to see, when at
the top, only far-reaching forests and
more mountains. Down we went into
| another canon. losing our trail many
times to find 1t again.
On the steep mountainside, between
lis and the sudden drop into the canon
(down which we looked upon the tops
of tall trees, and to the bottom of
which sight could not penetrate) we
saw a fragment Of moss-covered
masonry. and farther on another, and
anothef, and still farther on the frag-
ments heightened into crumbling
wall, and we were on a stone-paved
way. when it reached the sharp ridge
of the mountain, which 1t followed,
there was low stone wall on each
side of narrow paved way, mossy
and banked with dead leaves: walls
covered with plaster or cement that
moss and lichen and weather stain
had mellowed into harmony with the
surroundings.
Never was road like this one!
Through a wilderness apparently
primeval, but for 1t 1t seemed to lie
dreaming in a potent forest silence
that trembled on the edge of sound.
as the pale light that sifted through
the trees upon 1t trembled between
shade and sunshine. A strange spell
broods here that woos one to linger
and see visions Of that olden time.
At last we were on the top Of the
mountain and riding beside the high
convent wall, the entrance being on
the opposite side from our approach.
Within the patio. like the deserted
guardian Of the deserted place. stands
on a high pedestal marred stone
statue of some unacceptable saint.
mutely eloquent. We pass 1t, and
walk the lonely corridors, stand under
the lofty dome, climb the worn stairs
to the belfry, descend into under.
ground chambers, and loiter in clois-
ters and in the walled gardens and
orchards of old that Father Gage tells
us of: where the fragrant flowers
bloomed and the luscious fruit ripened
on Just such air and sunshine as
bathes the mountain top today. But
the "spirit of the hive" where Is 1t?
In front of the great arched en-
trance is an open space with few
maple trees, and small detacheo
ruin of brown adobe. Steps lead down
from one Of these old rooms. and
though the space is filled with debris
II appears to be an underground pas
sage to the convent. Standing there,
one looks into forest such as Durer
painted; vistas between the bodies OF
giant trees. dim beguiling. satyr'
haunted depths.
The shadows were deepening there
for the day was perceptibly waning;
and we of short span of days must
hasten to leave a ruin that was old
before we had being. and that Will
song outlast us.
ctEAMno EVAN0