Evening star. [volume], March 04, 1936, Page B-6, Image 24

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
CHAPTER I.
ON A morning in early March,
1848, & young man rode his
horse down the bed of the
creek that flows out of Tejon
Pass to be lost in the vast level
reaches of the San Joaquin Valley, in
the heart of California. The pass
debouches with abruptness into the
valley; as the young man rode, sud
denly the banks of'the creek flattened,
the hills above him on either side
reached their farthest north—and the
valley lay smiling before him. He
pulled up his horse and sat him, the
■while he gazed out into such a land
as he had not seen before. Below him,
as far as he could see, rolled a carpet
of new green grass, smeared with vast
acreages of blue and yellow lupin,
golden and orange escoltzia. breath
taking in its Spring loveliness. Up
the hills to the west the riot of color
spread; far to the east rose toe dim
blue outlines of the Sierra foothills
and beyond the foothills the rampart
of eternal white that was the Sierra
itself. A silent, lonely, lovely land,
Inhabited only by grizzly bear, tule
elk and antelope—pastoral California.
For a long time the horseman gazed
and in his heart was that full feeling
that comes fo an over-plus of beauty.
So this was California— that mythical
land of beauty of which Montalvo
wrote long before the galleons of Cab
rillo had skirted the coast. How dif
ferent (he thought) from desert or
semi-desert of Sonora, Mexico, from
which he had ridden the previous
Fall. How different from all that
portion of California through which
he had already ridden.
He patted his horse’s withers.
“Here, little horse,” he murmured, “is
a land that will appeal to thee." He
spoke in Spanish, employing the
solemn style because the animal was
dear to him. He dismounted, picked
up each of the animal’s feet in turn
and examined the rude heavy plates
with which his mount was shod. They
were badly worn and should have been
replaced a month previous; the hoofs
were growing out over the rims of
the shoes.
Deeply content, he spoke to his
horse. ‘‘A fat land,” he said, "where
God provides for the wanderer. At
the pueblo of Los Angeles they told
me that from the mouth of the pass
ft is about 70 leagues to the rancho
©f Don Ricardo de la Cuesta, in this
valley just west of Pacheco Pass,
named in honor of a California gober
nador. Courage, my Pedro, in five
days we will be there. In this cool
Spring weather my antelope will not
spoil, nor will your feet grow tender
and bleed. By the blood of the devil,
I should be well content were I not
out of tobacco. But at the Rancho
Del Luis Rey there is tobacco and good
food and wine for me and corn for
you, Pedro. In a month your lean
ribs will again be fat.”
From where it hung at his pommel
he lifted a small guitar, tuned it as
he rode along and strumming joy
ously, singing for his own enjoyment
a song that was written when the
Moore evacuated Granada.
Late in the afternoon of his fifth
day in the San Joaquin he sighted
among the oaks and sycamores, in a
smaller side valley at the mouth of a
pass, a long low white hacienda, with
dozens of little brown adobe houses
and a large corral clustered around
ft. Smoke rose from all the chimneys
and presently across the fragrant
Helds the wanderer heard the faint
music of chimes, ringing the Angelus.
•‘The Rancho Del Luis Rey,” he
shouted joyously to his horse. “I
have heard that Don Ricardo has his
own chapel and his own priest.”
He pulled the horse to a halt, un
covered, bowed his head, made the
sign of the cross and murmured the
prescribed prayers, not omitting to
give thanks to the Omnipotent One
for the safe conclusion of his long and
arduous journey.
As he rode up to the corral a peon
came out of his little jacal hard by,
lifted his hat and said politely:
"Welcome, traveler, to the Rancho
Del Luis Rey You are a stranger,
and a fool cc-ld see you have trave d
far, for both you and your horse are
thin. Permit me to relieve you cf the
animal. I will water and feed him.
Yonder, at the hacienda, you will find
Don Ricardo de la Cuesta, who will
doubtles make you welcome for as
long as you may wish to remain."
He approached and bowed. “I am
Tomas Trujillo,” he announced.
The new arrival dismounted and
bowed in his turn. “I am Joaquin
Murietta and I thank you for this
welcome.”
“I but welcome you in the name of
Don Ricardo. Whence do you come?”
“From Sonora."
“A long, cruel journey. I, myself
have made it. With your permission,
my friend.” He took the reins and
led the horse into the corral. “When
he is cool I will give him water, com
and hay.”
“You are much too kind,” Joaquin
Murietta replied with the customary
Spanish punctilio, albeit had he been
received with lesser courtesy and
heartiness he would have had a poor
opinion of Tomas Trujillo and, con
versely, of the latter’s master. Stiffly
he walked to the hacienda where, on
a rude bench in the long colonade he
found a Castilian gentleman who,
from his raiment, he assumed must
be Don Ricardo de la Cuesta. Pre
senting himself before this individual,
he removed his sombrero and bowed
low.
“Don Ricardo de la Cuesta?” he
murmured.
“X am he.” the don replied kindly
but with a certain austerity that was
the prerogative of his class. He
waited for the stranger to name him
self.
“I am Joaquin Murieta. I have
ridden from Sonora, where my patron
was Don Luis Bernal. Don Luis has
entrusted me with a letter for your
excellency.”
“Ah,” murmured Don Ricardo.
F’rom my good friend of other days.”
Don Ricardo, lik> so many of his class
in those days, could neither read nor
write, nevertheless he was pleased to
receive the letter which Joaquin Muri
etta now produced from the inner
breast pocket of his short leather
jacket and handed to his host. Don
Ricardo thanked him briefly and
thrust the letter, unopened, into his
own pocket.
you are welcome to the Rancho
Del Luis Rey, Murietta,” he an
nounced gravely. “Of a certainty you
are a most excellent fellow, else Don
Luis Bernal would not have entrusts
you with his communication.” He
pointed to a distant snftll adobe
house. “Yonder lives Felipe Sanchez,
my majordomo. Go to him and say,
in my name, that you are a guest for
as long as you choose to remain. If,
perchance, it is your plan, after you
have rested, to travel further, Sanchez
will provide you with a fresh horse."
“You are much too kind, Don
Ricardo. Until this moment I was a
stranger in California. Now I am
among friends and since that is the
case, the thought comes to me that it
would be stupid of me to play the
burro, to abandon the green fields for
the cactus of the desert. I would
attach myself, for a time at least, to
the services of your excellency.”
Don Ricardo smiled and spread both
hands in a gesture of submission to
this remarkable request. Another
mouth to feed? What matter one
more or a hundred? "You are sadly
in need of new clothing, Joaquin,” he
said. “Inform Sanchez in my name
that he is to provide it.” He nodded
his dismissal.
As Joaquin strode away toward the
majordomo’s quarters, a girl came
out of the hacienda and stared after
him.
“Who is that man, my father?”
she inquired.
“A former peon of my old friend,
Don Luis Bernal, in Sonora, Juanita,”
Don Ricardo replied. “He has but
now arrived and bore me a letter from
Don Luis. It is well that I have had
Father Gregorio impart to you such
education as he possesses.” He drew
forth the letter and handed it to his
daughter. “Read,” he commanded.
The girl reached for the letter, but
her glance still followed the tall form
of Joaquin Murietta. “He does not
look like a peon,” she murmured. “He
has an air about him, that fellow. Is
his blood pure?”
“I did not observe him closely,
Juanita, but now that you mention
it, I think he is a pure-bred Spaniard.”
"He is handsome,” the girl mur
mured, half to herself. "Under the
peon’s air of submission he has a
boldness. Ragged he is, tut his spurs
are of hammered silver and he has
many little silver bells pendant from
the brim of his hat, which is of vicuna
and not straw, such as Mexican peones
wear. And he carries a great pistol.
Moreover, he has but this morning
shaved himself—all save that brave
little moustache. A strange peon,
that one. Will he remain?”
“He has expressed that wish.” Don
Ricardo replied shortly. "Read me
the letter, little pigeon.”
Juanita read:
6th September, 1847.
My esteemed friend, Ricardo.
I take this opportunity to convey to
you and your charming daughter re
newed assurance of my affectionate
friendship.
The bearer, one Joaquin Murietta,
has grown restless in my employ and
seeks a wider field, although I have
been at pains to assure him that he
does a poor thing to depart from his
own country and his own people to
satisfy the dictates of his roving
ambition. However, since he will not
be advised wisely, I have taken the
liberty of commending him to you.
Joaquin is not, strictly, of the peon
class. In his veins he carries no
Indian blood. Of his parents I know
nothing. He came to me five years
ago, after his elder brother, Jesus,
who was my majordomo departed
iUi v^diiivyi ilia- nitu 111a iixubiici . DVCl
since Joaquin has desired to join
them, so I have given him a horse
and 200 pesos and 1* God is good to
him he will survive to deliver you this
letter. He is an excellent vaquero and
knows his place, even though it seems
to me he is not satisfied with it. Be
cause he has been a good and faithful
servant I commend him to your
charity and trust that ir, California,
through your influence, he will find
a new life more suited to his tempera
ment. If you can assist him in locat
ing his older brother and mother I
shall be your debtor. The old woman
is blind.
Time passes here on velvet feet and
nothing changes, not even my heart
which still beats with affection for
you and yours. Such news as there
is will be given you by this rascal,
Joaquin. I embrace you, old friend.
I kiss your daughter’s hand.
With affection,
Luis.
Juanita folded the letter. “So,” she
murmured, "it seems that I was right.
This one is not a peon.”
"He shall be treated as one,” her
father reminded her grimly, “but If,
as my old friend intimates, he is a
superior person, I shall pay him a
small wage. Sanchez grows old—soon
he will be too old to ride with the
vaqueros and will lose the touch of
command.
“It will be long before that Joaquin
Murietta loses it—if he succeeds as
your majordomo, my father. It is
not dignified that one of our own
blood—even though his parents be
strangers to him—should share the
lot of your peones of mixed blood or
pure Indian blood.”
Don Ricardo favored her with a
quick, side-long glance of suspicion.
“If this Murietta is ar. intelligent
man,” he reminded her, "he will
realize that it is better to be the head
of a mouse than the tail of a lion!”
(To be continued.)
■ — ■ , -♦ --
SENATOR GORE TO SPEAK
Will Discuss Relation of Recov
ery to Administration.
Senator Gore, Democrat, of Okla
homa, will discuss the relation of
recovery to the administration at the
regular meeting of the Oklahoma
Young Democrats of the District at
8 p.m. tomorrow in the All States
Hotel
A short business meeting will be
held preceding the address and a
petition will be presented requesting
the absentee voting privilege from the
Oklahoma Legislature.
A. A. A. EXECUTIVES
IAUNCHNEW PLAN
Three-Day Conferences to
Open Tomorrow at Chi
cago and Memphis.
By th« Associated Press.
Major executives of the A. A. A.
headed for Memphis and Chicago to
day to launch the new $500,000,000
soil conservation-subsidy program at
regional meetings of farm represent
atives.
Representatives of the Soil Conser
vation Service, the Agriculture De
partment solicitor’s office, statisticians
and economists accompanied them.
The three-day conferences will open
tomorrow.
A report of the A. A. A. controller,
made public before the delegations en
trained yesterday, showed $580,821,
074 was paid to approximately 3,000,
000 farmers in 1935 under the invali
dated agricultural adjustment act.
There are about 6,000,000 farmers
in the Nation. All are eligible to
share in subsidies under the new
farm relief plan, but officials forecast
individual payments would be smaller.
At the regional meetings, A. A. A.
officials are expected to disclose ad
ministrative details whereby $500,000,
000 will be paid in Federal subsidies
to farmers for diverting land to soil
conservation and other economic uses.
Secretary Wallace, who will leave
tonight for Memphis and to go Chi
cago Saturday, halted preparations for
the trip for a brief radio address in
which he said:
“I believe that under this new pro
gram we can do a more constructive
job of putting a Arm physical base
under our civilization than has ever
been done by any great nation with
a continental climate.
“I am confident that if we are
able to overcpme successfully the very
real technical difficulties which now
confront us because of the shortage
of time, the new plan will be so uni
versally accepted and appreciated by
all Interests in our society that It will
continue for many years.”
The Secretary said the new program
"undoubtedly will permit a flexibility
in operations which will be tremen
dously Important.” He added that the
regional meetings, Including those at
New York City and Salt Lake City
next Monday, Tuesday and Wednes
day, “will doubtless throw much light
upon the administrative problems we
face."
31 OILS TO BE SHOWN
Grant Ship Paintings Include
That of U. S. 8. Constitution.
The Washington Society of the Pine
Arts will oiler an exhibit of 31 oil
paintings of ships fh full sail, painted
by Goidon Grant, at the Corcoran
Gallery of Art from Saturday until
March 30.
President Roosevelt, who heads the
list of patrons, has loaned to the gal
lery Grant’s famous painting of U. S.
8. Constitution, which hangs in the
White House.
*d«*f dou«d-»
tsttaat
"You are welcome to the Rancho Del Luis Rey, Marietta, as a
guest, for as long as you choose to remain."
From his saddle bags the man re
moved a claw-hammer and a small
chisel and pried the shoes off; with
a rasp he trimmed the hoofs, re
mounted and pressed on into the
valley where the earth, following a
recent rain, was soft and cushioned
with grass. Freed from the cumber
some and ill-fitting shoes and pleas
uring in this new and delightful foot
ing for his bare feet, the horse broke
Into a running walk that carried him
northward at a good 6 miles per
hour. At midday the man halted, re
moved saddle and bridle, groomed his
horse with wisps of old dry wild-oat
feed that had held over from the
previous Summer, watered the animal
at a little creek that ran down from
the western hills, and after hobbling,
turned the horse loose to graze. His
horse, he reflected, was more fortunate
than he. No problem of sustenance
presented itself to his mount, whereas,
for breakfast, the rider had consumed
the last scrap of jerked beef he had
carried for his journey.
He gazed about him. Half a mile
distant a small herd of antelope
grazed, so the man cut a long withe
from a willow, sharpened it and thrust
Jt in the ground about 40 feet out
from the edge of the creek. To the
top of the withe he fastened his
serape and, after noting that it flut
tered in the breeze, he hid himself
behind the bank of the stream, drew
a long-barreled cap-and-ball pistol
and waited.
Antelope are notoriously curious.
Presently the herd observed the flap
ping serape, gazed at it a few minutes
and then movec. toward it to investi
gate. Every little while they paused
to consider the phenomenon, then
pushed forward furtively again. They
were up wind from the serape, hence
they gleaned no taint of the man
smell; when they were within 20 feet
of it, the man rose softly and shot
one of the little animals. Swiftly he
bled it and dressed it, hung it in the
forks of a sycamore tree with his
riata and extracted the liver. With
flint and steel he made a fire of dried
limb6 and when he had a nice bed of
coals, spread the liver on them and
presently ate it without salt. Then
he caught up his horse, saddled it,
tied the carcass of the antelope behind
his cantle and resumed his journey,
keeping close to the western fringe
of hills.
JJansburqhs
7th, 8th & E
]
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The Reason Why It Is NOT
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Clinical tests by Dr. Frederic Dam- I
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§ 7th. 8th & E
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