Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1938-03-17
Virqinia Stivers Bartlett

The best silk quilts and bed furnish.
ings were carried to the room sci
apart for the almost-royal guest
chamber. When all this was done,
and the children cleaned and
dressed, the women-folk fixed their
men-folk's hair; trimmed it, combed
it, braided it into queues.
Suddenly there was a volley OF
shots, a prancing of. hoofs, shouts
and cries, and the caravan came in
sight. The people of San Diego
pressed forward to see-there was
Ell Gobernador-Don Pedro himself,
his brown eyes twinkling, his mouth
stern, riding proudly between his
lady and his son.
"Ah, his son!" they chartered.
"That would be Pedro the Younger
of course. A princeling, yes, a
princeling. But look you-the lady
La Gobernadora!"
La Gobernadora rode into the
compound proudly, head high, eyes
level. She saw the jolly clamor
around the Governor, a respectful
intimacy that established at once in
her mind the relations of her. hus-
band with these people that he gov
erned. She did not approve of it
this backslapping and joking. Aft
er all he was the Governor, the
Kings own representative in this
province and should demand and re-
ceive more dignifed attention.
For moment she looked around
her. The adobe stockade was lined
with huts that followed the contours
of the hills. Living quarters, store
houses, chapel, huddled under the
flag of Spain. To the east great
mountains, the Cuyamacas and Pal
omar, lifted profound white brows
into the sunset sky-remote, i'm
passable.
Prison walls-shuddered the lady.
To the west the South Sea spread
like a carpet of red gold clear to
the setting sun. Into it old Point
Iona plowed like the prov of a
ship.
So this was California Alta-and
here was she, at last.
Fray Mariana and Fray Bartolo-
me were being led away, after a
joyful greeting from Padre Lasuen,
to their quarters. They too looked
about them doubtfully.
$50 this is California Alta!" whis-
pered Fray Mariana. "What next?"
"Sh-h!" warned his brother as
Padre Lasuen overlook them. They
walked beside him, hands clasped
piously over their stomachs, their
eyes cast downward.
After a thanksgiving service in
the chapel, there was a merry feast
in the quarters of the Lieutenant
Zuniga that night. The food was
good, wine flowed and the Indians
from the Mission San Diego de AL
Gala made amazing music.
Eulalia was dazed, tired, a little
i'll. But the Governor was in fine
fettle. Over and over he told of
the long journey north, relating
news of this one and of that, prais-
ing La Gobernadora's courage and
fortitude. Every one hung on his
words, laughed at his sallies, en-
couraged him to talk; occasionally
they would address her CALAMITY,
but she was unresponsive.
She wanted to retire. Angustias,
where was she? Talking amiably in
corner with the fat wife of the SER
geant. They were chatting conf
dentially, laughing, whispering with
arched eyebrows. Even Pedro the
Younger, and the little Indian Es-
cabellito, were busy friend-making.
Eulalia could hear their voices out
of-doors, screaming and laughing at
some game.
Every one was gay but she. She
couldn't bear it.
"Your Excellency!" she called
peremptorily to her husband.
He came to her.
"Well, my dear, he said jovially,
"isn't this fine! All, the kind friendly
hearts of my people-my friends!
Don't they warm your hearth" He
was flushed with wine.