The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1938-03-17

Don Pedro FACES, had not recon-
mended the idea. It was regret
table the two Franciscans, Fray
Mariana Rubi and Fray Bartolome
Gill, were unsuitable, but it was hard
to get decent men to leave Mexico,
and go to the distant province of
California.
There was a friendly personal let
ter from the Father Guardian, but
that gave Junipero Sierra no COM
fort. Sierra was warned against u.s.
ing his temporal influence, as there
were rumors abroad that the mis-
sions in California were to be turned
over to the Order of Dominicans,
and the Franciscans returned to
Mexico.
"No, no." faltered the franciscan.
"No, Pho, you do not read that tru-
ly! California to be delivered to the
Dominicans? But California is San
Francisco's own country cho-
sen by his own wish never
should it be in other hands than
those of the Brothers of San Fran
cisco! All, it is just a rumor it
could be nothing else, God forbid
that it should!"
Sierra clasped his hands and was
still. care there no more letters?"
he asked calmly.
Here is one, but it is not from
Mexico, Padre. 1t is from his Ex-
cellency."
don Pedro! Read it."
The note was curt, brief. The
Governor had received dispatches
from Mexico, regarding the found
ing of the Mission Santa Barbara,
and he presumed the holy father had
received the same intelligence. 1t
was unfortunate the holy father had
not seen fit to communicate with
him, or shown any disposition to en-
ter again upon friendlier relations.
He himself and La Gobernadora,
with an escort, were leaving on the
San Antonio when she sailed for
the Preside and Mission of San
Francisco, where La Gobernadora
would be confined by the eminent
doctor who was stationed there. And
that was all.
The father rose painfully from his
cot, and stood in the center of the
little cell, his hands outf1ung to
Heaven.
Deserted! Betrayed! The face of
all mankind is turned against me,
but Thou, o Father, art with me!
Thy rod and thy staff they comfort
me! Thou art with me always :"
"And l, Padre" whispered Pho,
kneeling at the fathers feet. 81 am
with you, always"
The Missionary put one hand on
the Indians bowed head, and with
the other still appraised, stood. with
rapt face, his lips murmuring pray
ers. Pho could feel the heat of the
trembling hand even through the
thick thatch of his hair, and close
to the father as he was, could feel
his limbs trembling. At last Sierra
spoke to him.
''It is finished, Pho. And if all
the years that 1 have toiled have
brought me nothing else, it is
enough that you are here, simple,
loving, righteous. Pho mio." He
smiled at the boy, and turned again
to his cot. He knelt beside it.
"But, Padre, will you not lie
DOWN." questioned the anxious boy.
''This attitude is more COM
Portable, son, for it is one to which
my body is more familiar than any
other. Pho, will you try to find
Estevanico, and bring back my
spectacles to me? For now I have
many, many letters to write, and
the time is getting short, ay, short"
Pho frightened the red sash around
his waist and Strengthened proudly.
Father, it shall be done. At
once" He dashed out of the cell,
through the mission grounds, and in
the direction of the village of the
gentle Indians.
Junipero Sierra did not feel the
hard floor beneath his knees, nor the
hard boards on which his head rest
ed. He was bordering deeply, sad
ly, praying to keep the bitterness
from his thoughts.
He began dreaming of the past, of
his earlier days in California.
Episodes which he had forgotten
long since came into his mind. His
first baptism of an Indian child, the
sweetness of hedge of wild roses
along newly broken trail, sunset
glow on the white peaks of the lofty
sierras. With each of these impress
sions came the figure of Pedro
FACES, whose eyes saw the same
beauty, and whose heart loved it as
he did.
"Ai, mi companero," he sighed,
you have deserted me. Friend,
brother"
The room grew dark. A swallow
darted in the low doorway, circled
the cell and flew out with silky rus
tie of swift wings. Junipero Sierra
smiled.
Father Francis :" he whis-
pered, Father Francis rec
ognize thy messenger :"
Then he lay very still.
Into the room, after a long while,
darted Pho, as swiftly and noise
lessly as the swallow.
"Padre mio!" he crowed, "Padre
milo! Look, your spectacles!" There
was no answer from the priest.
Pho leaned over him breathlessly.
"Look," he said, 81 have them, your
spectacles, Father" At last Sierra
stirred.
"Ah, bless you, my child?" he
said in a faint voice. ''Now light
the candles for there is work to be
DONE"