4
Friday. August 30, 1940
SOUTHERN OREGON MINER
Page 8
--------- TH RILES!---------------------------------- ---- -------------------------
All Part of the Day’s Work
OF
© Freni HaSpearm«a
CHAPTER XII—Continued
^“lf—
"Well—if you say so. Padre—so
be it," replied Bowie.
The priest rose. “I will give you
absolution. I will perform your pen­
ance for you. And whatever hap­
pens, you will be ready. Good-by.
my son. You now truly are my
son." He raised his wrinkled hand,
expressed the symbol of eternity
above him. and spoke low and rap­
idly the serious words of absolution.
Again the lumbering footstep was
heard in the corridor. "Come!”
shouted the guard, unlocking and
opening the door. It would have
been so easy, thought Bowie, to
have knocked him down.
“I am ready, amigo.” Speaking
placaUngly, the padre stepped into
the corridor and walked away.
1 these. Take, senor, the powder and
' ball.”
"Sanchez, 1 will not forget you.”
"But you will come back?”
Bowie looked at the land he loved,
the fair land to which he was say­
ing gotxi-by. He looked at Sanchez.
“Quien sabe?”
He watched the Indian ride silent­
ly away.
Away, mused Bowie, to the scene
of his bitterest tragedv and his dead­
ly revenge. Why Is it that, like the
wounded animal, we crawl back to
die where the arrow struck us down?
And I, he mused on. back to the
desert, back to the torment of hun-
ger and thirst; leaving this land
flowing with milk and honey and
licking my wound—perhaps, who
knows, to die. Well—let Sanchez go
to Guadalupe. I won't go back."
CHAPTER XIII
WNU Servie*
But he knew Bowie better than any
other person at Guadalupe. He had
seen him in many tight places; he
had seen him meet emergency and
knew his resourcefulness. He could
only say, and did say, that he
thought Bowie would make it and
return.
Many moons passed at the rancho
before anyone knew whether Pe-
dro's prophecy or Don Ramon's
foreboding would prove right. Guad­
alupe affairs did not improve in
the long interval; rather, they grew
worse.
To make matters worse at Guad­
alupe. Don Ramon, never robust, a
man of peace, unfitted to cope with
such conditions, fell ill. and the trou­
bled management of the rancho fell
on Dona Marla.
This, in turn, meant that Carmen
Would have to assume a share of
the burden, and she did so. Pedro
gradually came to look to her first
for her mother's orders and at
length for her own. Carmen of ne­
cessity became active in the saddle
and. under the wing of Pedro and
his husky vaqueros, full of fight at
the thought of marauders. Her
mother's chief worry was that the
burning-eyed girl would become em­
broiled, to her undoing, in resist­
ing minor raids on the rancho.
None of this round of anxieties
and excitement diminished the in­
terest of Dona Maria or her daugh­
ter in the affairs of Mission Santa
Clara. Its now rapid spoliation by
the greedy Mexican government
served to sharpen the sympathies
of Dona Maria and Carmen for the
patient padres who submitted with­
out resistance to the outrageous pil­
lage of their corrupt oppressors.
"It is not for ourselves, dear seño­
rita." said Padre Martinez to Car­
men. "that we mourn, but for these
poor neophytes, our Indian men and
Indian women whom we are forced
to turn away to drift back, so many
of them, into savagery. With our
Rancho Guadalupe was not quiet
during the year following Bowie's
departure.
Political disturbances
marked the period throughout Cali­
fornia. Rival Mexican factions were
in motion most of the time. Fre­
mont, increasingly bold, had en­
larged the scope of his depredation*.
Commodore Stockton had not a* yet
told him bluntly where he belonged.
Pardaloe and Slmmie. deserted by
Bowie, felt the wanderlust and re­
signed at Guadalupe to betake them­
selves to Sutter's where, as hunters
and riflemen,-they were welcomed
by the energetic Swiss.
If there had been lingering, after
Bowie's departure from Guadalupe,
a penumbra of the reputation that
his presence had established at the
In Texas the adventurer found ev­ rancho, it faded completely when
As darkness fell Bowie stood close erything changed. And. to his taste, his scout* left Minor marauders
had heretofore steered clear of the
to the peephole, watching for the changed for the worse.
padre to pass in the corridor. He
Bowie had left* the sturdy little noted hacienda, since the Tejanos
was no longer anxious to finish the republic imbued with some feeling were known to visit swift and severe
tunnel, feeling sure that he could of enthusiasm for a country he could punishment on any who ran off
horses or cattle. The wild Tulares.
take Sanchez with him.
the Mexican rovers and the wan-
A hooded figure passed Bowie's
dering Americanos had long been
cell and. without pausing, walked
content to do their pillaging else-
down the corridor. The Texan tip­
where.
toed back to his stool and sat down ;
Seemingly everything united in
to listen.
that year to make the situation of
Hour after hour passed in the cell,
Don Ramon and Guadalupe unpleas­
with Bowie straining his ears and
ant And at the dinner* many were
senses to hear the whistle which ,
the regretful expressions that Bowie
should tell him the horses had come.
had deserted the rancho—for so his
Sanchez stealthily appeared at the
going was mildly characterized by
cell door and unlocked it. Bowie
his Spanish friends.
drew him in for a whispered confi­
dence.
One morning after an especially
exasperating report had come in
“Two horses will soon be left be-
from Pedro, about a caballeria of
hind the guardhouse, I wait for
horses that had been run off during
them."
the night by thieving Americano*.
“Why two?”
Carmen spoke up with spirit
"You are going with me.”
"But why,” she asked of no one
"Me?”
in particular, "why. instead of talk­
‘"Yes, you. Do you want to be
ing so much about it don't we do
shot? When you hear the whistle.
something
about getting Senor Bow­
come back and we will start.”
ie back?"
Sanchez hesitated. . “Hark! the
What could be done, even to get
signal,” whispered Bowie. "I will
track of him, let alone getting him
wait for you at the horses. Work
back to Guadalupe? Inquiry fol­
fast.”
lowed inquiry concerning him. Car-
The Texan curbed his ntrvous ap­
1 men epecially took up the subject
prehension as well as he could.
with energy. It was quite in vain.
Slinking around to the rear of the
Hi* friends were besought to hunt
jail, he found the horses, their beads
him up. Dr. Doane was enlisted;
roped together. They stood quiet
"And whatever happens, you
he worked at the task. He had a
and Bowie, after patting them,
will be ready.”
friendly interest in bringing him
walked back to the guardroom.
call his own, hoping as he did to back to what appeared to his vision
“Sanchez," whispered Bowie in
unite with its fortunes the grandiose an altered situation.
the dark, "can you find me a knife
domain of the Pacific Coast.
At Mission Santa Clara Padre
or a pistol?”
In California itself he had been Martinez was appealed to. He, too.
“Here are both, senor. And I
forced to realize how futile any such was very ready to do what he could,
have one each for myself; and pow­
effort must be. Much greater na­ which was little, but he wrote to
der and lead.”
tions—the ambitious Americans, the fellow missioner* in the South to
"Then you are ready?"
perennially grasping British, the ask that they be on the lookout. In
“Ready, senor.”
Black-bearded Russians, the easy­ Yerba Buena Nathan Spear, Dr.
"Listen. Before I go back to the going Spaniards and the thrice-stu­ Doane's friend, told the doctor that
horses I will leave my compliments pid Mexicans—were all striving to he had in his safe a considerable
to Pico. Take your keys and un­ land in their laps the prize of the sum of money belonging to Bowie
lock every door along the corridor." world—California.
but had no clue as to where the
“Senor!”
And now after ten years the re- owner might be. He could write,
"Exactly—every door. Give ev­ public of Texas was no more. A and did write, to hi* Lo* Angele*
ery man his chance to get away new crop of politicians had sprung correspondent. Beyond this, that a
from this Mexican scoundrel. Make up. The warriors of Texas were man of the same surname, Bowie,
baste.”
gone, or their counsels were sneered had been in prison at San Diego on
Bowie returned to the horses. He at. The.slaveholders of the United a charge of treason and had made
loosed them and awaited Sanchez, States were plotting to add the vast his escape, nothing further could be
who lost no time in rejoining him. territory of the little republic to the learned as to his whereabouts.
The horses’ feet were muffled, and slaveholding states, and they now
At Sutter’s neither of Bowie’s
the two mounted men, riding with controlled the sentiment of Texas.
men, Pardaloe or Simmie. had any
extreme care and with Sanchez for Ysabel was right!
The wheat la almost cut.
track of him. They were told at
guide, made their escape without
It took some time for Bowie to get Sutter's that he had packed up. re­ cattle taken and our horses sold
an alarm being sounded. Working all this clear in his head. But the
sisting all inducements to remain, how can we buy grain to feed these
east by north, daybreak found them clearer the intrigue became, the
and left the fort
poor people? And it would break
well into the first range of moun­ deeper grew his disgust for the an-
A ray of light on the fate of the your heart, señorita, to see them
tains to the east of the presidio.
nexationists who were seated in the missing man came, after a year or plead with us ior food. They look
"We are well out of that rascal’s political saddles.
more, from a least expected quar- to u* as children to their mother.
reach, Sanchez,” said Bowie. "The
He realized that, after all. poli­ ter. Pedro, one morning, brought They do not understand. They only
question now is: what do we want tics held no abiding interest for
in word that the missing Sanchez say. We are hungry.' What can we
to do? I am on my way to Texas. him. The thing that pleased him
had come back; that he had found do?”
Do you want to come along?”
most was the wild longhorns of the the rascal, Yosco and killed him
Carmen's eyes flashed. "I know
“Texas, senor? Where is that?” great prairies. The longhorn of his
and he was hiding somewhere near what we can do. Padre. We have
"A long way—six, seven sleeps if youth had not changed; the vast
Mission Santa Clara and had men­ at Guadalupe every promise of a
no trouble on the way. If trouble, sweep of the Staked Plain had not
tioned to Indians there news of bountiful harvest. The wheat is al­
no one can say how many sleeps. changed.
Bowie.
most ready to cut There is a gran­
Sometimes bad Indians; sometimes
And then there was a sense of the
ary full of last year's wheat. You
Pedro
was
dispatched
to
the
mis
­
lose the way. Wide deserts, high comradeship of these men that rode
shall have every bushel above our
mountains, deep rivers.
But I with him through fair sunshine and sion Indians at once with instruc­
own needs for your poor Indian*.
crossed them once. I can do it foul northers, men who had no am­ tions to bring Sanchez back by fair
Thi* wretched robber Mexican gov­
again. While we rest, think it over. bition but to serve, no instinct but means or foul, to assure him that
ernment! What greedy beast*! Talk
If you want to come with me, I of loyalty, in whose lexicons there his old job was open for him and
about Americano*! They couldn't be
that
while
he
had
not
been
forgiv
­
will take the best care I can of was no such word as fear—most of
en for killing the man who had tak­ worse!"
you.”
them had fought in the battles of
"Such is our lot, my child. ” said
Warmed by the sun, breakfasted, Texas for freedom—men who hated en his sweetheart, his conduct would
thanking her.
and fatigued by the excitement and the greaser politico* with a right­ be overlooked. After two days of Padre Martinez,
strain
of
the
escape,
Bowie eous hatred and owed no fealty to suspense at Guadalupe Pedro, ear­ "Cease not to pray. Only to heaven
ly the third morning, walked into can we turn for help."
stretched before the dying fire and any but their leader.
the office of Don Ramon to say he
fell asleep. While he napped San­
To Bowie such men were all in
In Monterey Dr. Doane's office
chez sat drawing figures in the all. His concerns were their con­ had Sanchez with him.
Dona Maria and Carmen joined was not far from the water front,
sandy soil with bits of sticks.
cerns, his feuds, their feuds; his
Bowie woke and rose to his feet. enemies, their enemies. Bowie loved Don Ramon and waited to hear San­ The doctor himself, in the inner of-
"Sanchez,” he asked, "what do you his cowboys; they loved him— chez' story. It was vivid and ab­ flee, was engaged one morning in
say? What do you want to do?”
proved it through storm and stress. sorbing, for Sanchez told everything. reading when the outer door opened
The Indian’s mind was made up.
Yet something, somewhere in his But in the end the question mark and a bearded man looked in on
“Senor," he said respectfully, “I thoughts, would never quite disap­ of mystery still remained. The two him.
The doctor glanced up. ‘'Bowie!”
think it better for me to stay in my pear. Banished, it would always men had parted in the mountains,
own country. I will go back to come back.
Those other nights, Sanchez to go north. Bowie to work he exclaimed. “Where in Texas did
Rancho Guadalupe.”
those nights glorified by the same his way over the inhospitable Si­ you come from? Sit down.”
“I hardly expected to see you
Bowie could hardly have believed, stars—it was the thought of those erras and across the trackless des­
until he heard them, how sharply that stole in on his wakeful hours. ert and the Staked Plain into far­ again in California," said the doc­
away Texas.
tor, when the men had seated them­
the words would cut him. Guada­ With everything to invite sleep­
It was a recital so convincing that selves, “so tell me all about it.”
lupe! What that meant to him! peace in the silent camp, peace in
What moments of sheer happiness, the stilled winds, a hard day's ride none thought to question it. Surmise
“Not much to tell,” countered
what dreams buoyant with life, what behind, a hard day’s ride ahead- fixed only on the possibilities of the Bowie. "I got a letter from Cap­
memories of snow-capped peaks, sleep would not come. The stars of outcome. To undertake such a feat, tain Sutter while I was in San An­
challenging storms, delectable sun­ the vast plains to look up at . . . even in a stout company of fron­ tonio, mak.ng me a pretty good of­
shine! What peace at an evening but these same stars lighted the tiersmen, at that early period of fer to join him as a partner. So
fireside, with a presence near, while night in California. The cattle— California travel, was enough to give I'm on my way to San Francisco,
he hoarded, miserlike, within his with their death-dealing horns, were the hardy pause; to attempt it alone as they call it now, to get some
breast the silent treasure of his full brother warriors of those long- was a challenge to the most reck­ money from Nat Spear and take a
less adventurer. Spanish thought boat Wednesday with my horses up
dreams!
horns of California.
Then the rude awakening! The
Everything seemed to say Call- would dismiss such an attempt as the river. It's three months now
stinging wound, the crushing reali­ fornia. Before he had left it they insanity. Yet the men who were to since the captain wrote, so he may
zation that his castle dreams had had told him it would be so. No make California into a frontier em­ have made different arrangements.
vanished. Guadalupe indeed!
one, they told him. could forget Cal­ pire did attempt the hazards of such We’U see.”
He nodded slowly in response to ifornia. He would, they said, al- endeavor and sometimes, though by
There was a natural bond of sym­
Sanchez’ decision. "Perhaps it is ways hear the soft wild call of the no means always, got through.
pathy between the Irish doctor and
Much talk followed Sanchez’ news. the gaunt Texan. They talked some
better so. Yes. I am sure it is. oriole, the plaintive note of the
These are your friends. They will meadow lark, the distant coo of the Don Ramon gave up at once all time before the conversation turned
welcome you, Sanchez. You are ruddy-throated dove. If he had to expectation* of ever seeing Bowie to what Bowie wanted to hear about.
wise.”
think of California, these were the again. The Indian* were divided in But since both were pretty good
In parting, Sanchez gave to Bow­ thoughts he tried to dwell on. One opinion. Sanchez doubted whether at masking their inner thoughts and
ie the flint and tinder and the salt. he doggedly tried to shun—the mu- Bowie could survive the peril* and each waited on the other, it took
“But what will you do?”
sic of one voice, a voice that he hardships that lay ahead of him. time to bring the talk around to
"I will stop at Mission San Ga­ strove so hard not to hear when Pedro could not argue or express Rancho Guadalupe.
himself eloquently on any subject.
briel. The padres will give me sleep shunned him.
(TO RE CONTINUED)
Rack at the turn of the century "Isn't It Thrilling? was one
of the feminine bon mots of the day. The girls were usually talk­
ing about a new hat. a trip to Europe, or forthcoming wedding
festivities. Rut in /b 10 unsung heroines are taking thrills in their
stride as /airi of the day’s work. for instance
»
Miss Priscilla Kaye,
lion tamer, thinks
nothing whatever of
climbing on the back
of a King of the Jun­
gle she has taught to
jump through hoops.
SL'-il
Above: Miss Hetty Middleton,
member of the Jimmie Eynch
Auto Death Dodger* troupe al
the .hew York U orltis Eair.
make* the hair of visitors stanti
on enti several times a day. Miss
Middleton hails from Brooklyn.
Beverly Shaw, high school girl, rides a broncho for the rodeo.
a.VAk'i
In Madrid, 17-year-old Señorita Juanita De l.a Cruz take* her
chance» against an angry bull as nonchalantly as any male fighter.
Circle: In England women pilot»
ferry the new aircraft of the R.ll'
from factory to airdrome. Right:
Mi»» Anna l.aur, 25-year-old weld­
er, doe» a man» work unmindful
of a rain of fire.
Ruth Pettibone bring» lunch to iteeplejack hubby, 175 feet up.