The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1940-09-13
CHAPTER Iv-Continued

Inc T6SulL was l1idSlCdl. AhC AlS-
id, fear-bound expression of the
child's features frightened instantly
to one of understanding The suspi-
cious eyes softened. This gesture
was at least one she could compre-
bend. A tirnid smile gradually
spread over her face.
81 believe she understands" said
Bowie.
She allowed him to put the cup to
her lips, drank lightly but grateful
ly, looking up at him wonderingly
between swallows. Her thirst was
apparent. Then she spoke to her
sister as Bowie supposed her to be.
With her cruelty stiffened arm she
offered the water to her. The little
one, drinking ravenously, finished
the cup. Simmie ran to the stream
and refilled it, and the two girls
emptied second cupful. They tast-
ed sparingly of the venison, but they
ate, and afterward the two pitiful
refugees rode with the formidably
bearded Texans down the long
reaches Of the foothill slopes.
After three days of riding they
stumbled on thing that gave them
cheer; they pulled up their horses
before a travelled way under their
feet-a plainly marked trail that
ran almost at right angles to the di-
rection in which they were riding.
Though it was winding along the
plain, across desert and over hills,
this was, quite unknown to them,
the highway of the king, linking,
up and down the stretches Of the
coast, the missions that had brought
to California authentic Christianity.
They debated as to which way
they should turn-north or south.
It was a question only to be an
swered by another: Where were
they? None Of the three had the
vaguest idea. Bowie knew he want
ed to get to Monterey-that was all.
Evidences of cultivated fields lay
to the south, so for the south they
headed.
Toward nightfal they found them
selves approaching something like
rancho. They quickened their pace,
for thin steamers Of smoke curled
vaguely from what might be a
house. Their surprise and disap-
pointment was cruel when, reaching
the crest of rise, they saw in the
fading light that the smoke rose
from the ruins of a habitation.
The little charges, carried by
Bowie and the long-legged Pardaloe,
had succumbed to the heat and ia
tigue Of the long days ride, and
both were asleep on the breasts Of
their rescuers. Between the adven-
turers and ruins lay a river. Along
the bed, almost dry, a slender
stream trickled through margins of
cress and rushes. The horses
stopped without invitation to slake
their thirst. Chaparral fringed the
farther bank of the stream, and
from this thicket there came sud-
den cry.
It awoke the elder girl. She raised
her head. Again cry, almost a
Shrek, came from the underground.
The girl in Bowie's arms. cried out
in return. The bushes across the
river parted and a woman stood
forth.
Bowie had hardly time to inspect
her before his charges called again
to the woman in frenzy of joy.
Monica! Monica!"
The woman was a Strengthening
creature. Her gaunt face was
framed by thin streams of dis
ordered hair, falling on her Shout
ders. A scant gown covered her
emaciated figure. But when she
heard the high, plaintive cry from
the little girls she quivered. Her
outstretched arms flew up and
down. "Carmelita!" she screamed,
"Terecita, is it your" The hurried
words in Spanish were not under
stood by the greatly surprised Te-
janos. Now the little girl broke
into a volley Of responses-her
tongue was loosed. She spoke so
fast that Bowie laughed as he lis
tened.
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