Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1938-03-10


the costume for Eulalia.
But she had been hustled away
into exile, and one of her regrets at
leaving was that she had never worn
the green velvet habit. Neverthe-
less it was packed in leather
trunk, which Angustias had marked
with green cross in a circle. And
when the Governor of California
greeted his lady wife he would see,
not a bedraggled, travelstained pill
grim in dusty black, her head COW
cred with a rebozo like Mexican
peasant woman, but real lady of
high degree, her velvets green
against white jennet, her proud
head high with nodding plunes. And
jeweled-
All, yes! She would wear her en-
eralds, of course. The heavy gold
set necklace, the long earrings, the
massive ring on her first finger.
Yes, the green was a happy
thought; green velvet and gems set
off a skin that is white and daz-
cling
Captain Canete rode ahead, his
perspiring brow furrowed with anx-
iety. By all the saints, this was the
worst day of the entire journey! A
narrow trail zigzagged down the
side of mountain which seemed to
bulge over the sea, thousands of feet
below; tortuous, treacherous trail,
so narrow it was necessary for the
cavalcade to travel in single file,
and so winding the animals had al
most to bend themselves double at
some turns.
When his thoughts permitted him,
he admired the Governors lady, rid
ing so calmly behind him, with new
err an outcry or even gasp of
fear as her trembling horse avoided
the ever present side-winder rattle
snakes, and picked it's way among
rolling pebbles where a misstep
would send horse and rider plunging
to death down the mountainside
into the ocean tapping hungrily be-
low.
What a woman! And after that
scene of last night.
But the lady's head was full of
other things: the green velvet habit,
the jewels that lay dark in the little
case strapped to her jennet, only
waiting CLEAN of light to make
them leap and glow like green
flames against her white skin.
Tonight she would see her husband
again.
Would he be the same? Would he
look the same? She could picture
him in armor and plumed helmet
like the great conquistador, Cortez;
or in rich velvets like the gentlemen
of the viceregal court, or as the
Governor of the CALIFORNIA;, sur
rounded by bowling attendants.
But no extension of her magma
ton could show Pedro FACES as he
actually was, a bluff soldado de
Guerra. Early in the California cam
paigns he and his tough little COM
pany of Catalonian volunteers had
adopted cuirasses of hide, and had
Immediately been dubbed, ''the
leather jackets -soldados de Guerra.
And Don Pedro, though he had risen
from humble lieutenant of the Cat
afonian volunteers to the governor
ship of the CALIFORNIA;, was still only
soldado de Guerra and wore his
cuirass on all expeditions. His skin
was tanned to the color of his jack
ct, his beard grizzled, his face lined.
Poor lady! How could her imagi-
nation stretch to such imaging!
AS evening approached the trail
twisted between two great arms of
the mountain that opened to the
Vermillion sea, and led gradually
into an arroyo.
After a consultation with the In
dian guides, Captain Canete turned
to the lady.
''It is only several hours from
here to the camp of his Excellency,
and if you wish to stop and refresh
yourself before going farther l will
withdraw and send the bearers
ahead"
81 will gladly avail myself of the
opportunity. You are very kind"
Es1 D-ex TILL n