Part 28 (1/2)

she said, in a tone of pleasure. ”I see that yon tall yucca has gone in shadow sooner than it did yesterday.”

And, ”What millions of things grow here, Alessandro! I did not know there were so many. Have they all names? The nuns taught us some names; but they were hard, and I forgot them, We might name them for ourselves, if we lived here. They would be our relations.”

And, ”For one year I should lie and look up at the sky, my Alessandro, and do nothing else. It hardly seems as if it would be a sin to do nothing for a year, if one gazed steadily at the sky all the while.”

And, ”Now I know what it is I have always seen in your face, Alessandro.

It is the look from the sky. One must be always serious and not unhappy, but never too glad, I think, when he lives with nothing between him and the sky, and the saints can see him every minute.”

And, ”I cannot believe that it is but two days I have lived in the air, Alessandro. This seems to me the first home I have ever had. Is it because I am Indian, Alessandro, that it gives me such joy?”

It was strange how many more words Ramona spoke than Alessandro, yet how full she felt their intercourse to be. His silence was more than silent; it was taciturn. Yet she always felt herself answered. A monosyllable of Alessandro's, nay, a look, told what other men took long sentences to say, and said less eloquently.

After long thinking over this, she exclaimed, ”You speak as the trees speak, and like the rock yonder, and the flowers, without saying anything!”

This delighted Alessandro's very heart. ”And you, Majella,” he exclaimed; ”when you say that, you speak in the language of our people; you are as we are.”

And Ramona, in her turn, was made happy by his words,--happier than she would have been made by any other praise or fondness.

Alessandro found himself regaining all his strength as if by a miracle.

The gaunt look had left his face. Almost it seemed that its contour was already fuller. There is a beautiful old Gaelic legend of a Fairy who wooed a Prince, came again and again to him, and, herself invisible to all but the Prince, hovered in the air, sang loving songs to draw him away from the crowd of his indignant n.o.bles, who heard her voice and summoned magicians to rout her by all spells and enchantments at their command. Finally they succeeded in silencing her and driving her off; but as she vanished from the Prince's sight she threw him an apple,--a magic golden apple. Once having tasted of this, he refused all other food. Day after day, night after night, he ate only this golden apple; and yet, morning after morning, evening after evening, there lay the golden fruit, still whole and s.h.i.+ning, as if he had not fed upon it; and when the Fairy came the next time, the Prince leaped into her magic boat, sailed away with her, and never was seen in his kingdom again. It was only an allegory, this legend,--a beautiful allegory, and true,--of love and lovers. The food on which Alessandro was, hour by hour, now growing strong, was as magic and invisible as Prince Connla's apple, and just as strength-giving.

”My Alessandro, how is it you look so well, so soon?” said Ramona, studying his countenance with loving care. ”I thought that night you would die. Now you look nearly strong as ever; your eyes s.h.i.+ne, and your hand is not hot! It is the blessed air; it has cured you, as it cured Felipe of the fever.”

”If the air could keep me well, I had not been ill, Majella,” replied Alessandro. ”I had been under no roof except the tule-shed, till I saw you. It is not the air;” and he looked at her with a gaze that said the rest.

At twilight of the third day, when Ramona saw Alessandro leading up Baba, saddled ready for the journey, the tears filled her eyes. At noon Alessandro had said to her: ”To-night, Majella, we must go. There is not gra.s.s enough for another day. We must go while the horses are strong. I dare not lead them any farther down the canon to graze, for there is a ranch only a few miles lower. To-day I found one of the man's cows feeding near Baba.”

Ramona made no remonstrance. The necessity was too evident; but the look on her face gave Alessandro a new pang. He, too, felt as if exiled afresh in leaving the spot. And now, as he led the horses slowly up, and saw Ramona sitting in a dejected att.i.tude beside the nets in which were again carefully packed their small stores, his heart ached anew. Again the sense of his homeless and dest.i.tute condition settled like an unbearable burden on his soul. Whither and to what was he leading his Majella?

But once in the saddle, Ramona recovered cheerfulness. Baba was in such gay heart, she could not be wholly sad. The horse seemed fairly rollicking with satisfaction at being once more on the move. Capitan, too, was gay. He had found the canon dull, spite of its refres.h.i.+ng shade and cool water. He longed for sheep. He did not understand this inactivity. The puzzled look on his face had made Ramona laugh more than once, as he would come and stand before her, wagging his tail and fixing his eyes intently on her face, as if he said in so many words, ”What in the world are you about in this canon, and do not you ever intend to return home? Or if you will stay here, why not keep sheep? Do you not see that I have nothing to do?”

”We must ride all night, Majella,” said Alessandro, ”and lose no time.

It is a long way to the place where we shall stay to-morrow.”

”Is it a canon?” asked Ramona, hopefully.

”No,” he replied, ”not a canon; but there are beautiful oak-trees. It is where we get our acorns for the winter. It is on the top of a high hill.”

”Will it be safe there?” she asked.

”I think so,” he replied; ”though not so safe as here. There is no such place as this in all the country.”

”And then where shall we go next?” she asked.

”That is very near Temecula,” he said. ”We must go into Temecula, dear Majella. I must go to Mr. Hartsel's. He is friendly. He will give me money for my father's violin. If it were not for that, I would never go near the place again.”

”I would like to see it, Alessandro,” she said gently.

”Oh, no, no, Majella!” he cried; ”you would not. It is terrible; the houses all unroofed,--all but my father's and Jose's. They were s.h.i.+ngled roofs; they will be just the same; all the rest are only walls.