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gamboge…colored face。 The odor of CIGARRITOS was as incense added
to the cathedral gloom of the building。
As Senor Altascar rose with well…bred gravity to receive us； George
advanced with such a heightened color； and such a blending of
tenderness and respect in his manner； that I was touched to the
heart by so much devotion in the careless youth。 In fact； my eyes
were still dazzled by the effect of the outer sunshine； and at
first I did not see the white teeth and black eyes of Pepita； who
slipped into the corridor as we entered。
It was no pleasant matter to disclose particulars of business which
would deprive the old senor of the greater part of that land we had
just ridden over； and I did it with great embarrassment。 But he
listened calmlynot a muscle of his dark face stirringand the
smoke curling placidly from his lips showed his regular
respiration。 When I had finished； he offered quietly to accompany
us to the line of demarcation。 George had meanwhile disappeared；
but a suspicious conversation in broken Spanish and English； in the
corridor； betrayed his vicinity。 When he returned again； a little
absent…minded； the old man； by far the coolest and most self…
possessed of the party； extinguished his black…silk cap beneath
that stiff； uncomely sombrero which all native Californians affect。
A serape thrown over his shoulders hinted that he was waiting。
Horses are always ready saddled in Spanish ranchos； and in half an
hour from the time of our arrival we were again 〃loping〃 in the
staring sunlight。
But not as cheerfully as before。 George and myself were weighed
down by restraint； and Altascar was gravely quiet。 To break the
silence； and by way of a consolatory essay； I hinted to him that
there might be further intervention or appeal； but the proffered
oil and wine were returned with a careless shrug of the shoulders
and a sententious 〃QUE BUENO？Your courts are always just。〃
The Indian mound of the previous night's discovery was a bearing
monument of the new line； and there we halted。 We were surprised
to find the old man Tryan waiting us。 For the first time during
our interview the old Spaniard seemed moved； and the blood rose in
his yellow cheek。 I was anxious to close the scene； and pointed
out the corner boundaries as clearly as my recollection served。
〃The deputies will be here tomorrow to run the lines from this
initial point； and there will be no further trouble； I believe；
gentlemen。〃
Senor Altascar had dismounted and was gathering a few tufts of
dried grass in his hands。 George and I exchanged glances。 He
presently arose from his stooping posture； and advancing to within
a few paces of Joseph Tryan； said； in a voice broken with passion：
〃And I； Fernando Jesus Maria Altascar； put you in possession of my
land in the fashion of my country。〃
He threw a sod to each of the cardinal points。
〃I don't know your courts； your judges； or your CORREGIDORES。 Take
the LLANO！and take this with it。 May the drought seize your
cattle till their tongues hang down as long as those of your lying
lawyers！ May it be the curse and torment of your old age； as you
and yours have made it of mine！〃
We stepped between the principal actors in this scene； which only
the passion of Altascar made tragical； but Tryan； with a humility
but ill concealing his triumph； interrupted：
〃Let him curse on。 He'll find 'em coming home to him sooner than
the cattle he has lost through his sloth and pride。 The Lord is on
the side of the just； as well as agin all slanderers and revilers。〃
Altascar but half guessed the meaning of the Missourian； yet
sufficiently to drive from his mind all but the extravagant power
of his native invective。
〃Stealer of the Sacrament！ Open not！open not； I say； your lying；
Judas lips to me！ Ah！ half…breed； with the soul of a coyote！car…
r…r…ramba！〃
With his passion reverberating among the consonants like distant
thunder； he laid his hand upon the mane of his horse as though it
had been the gray locks of his adversary； swung himself into the
saddle and galloped away。
George turned to me：
〃Will you go back with us tonight？〃
I thought of the cheerless walls； the silent figures by the fire；
and the roaring wind； and hesitated。
〃Well then； goodby。〃
〃Goodby； George。〃
Another wring of the hands； and we parted。 I had not ridden far
when I turned and looked back。 The wind had risen early that
afternoon； and was already sweeping across the plain。 A cloud of
dust traveled before it； and a picturesque figure occasionally
emerging therefrom was my last indistinct impression of George
Tryan。
PART IIIN THE FLOOD
Three months after the survey of the Espiritu Santo Rancho； I was
again in the valley of the Sacramento。 But a general and terrible
visitation had erased the memory of that event as completely as I
supposed it had obliterated the boundary monuments I had planted。
The great flood of 1861…62 was at its height when； obeying some
indefinite yearning； I took my carpetbag and embarked for the
inundated valley。
There was nothing to be seen from the bright cabin windows of the
GOLDEN CITY but night deepening over the water。 The only sound was
the pattering rain； and that had grown monotonous for the past two
weeks； and did not disturb the national gravity of my countrymen as
they silently sat around the cabin stove。 Some on errands of
relief to friends and relatives wore anxious faces； and conversed
soberly on the one absorbing topic。 Others； like myself； attracted
by curiosity listened eagerly to newer details。 But with that
human disposition to seize upon any circumstance that might give
chance event the exaggerated importance of instinct； I was half…
conscious of something more than curiosity as an impelling motive。
The dripping of rain； the low gurgle of water； and a leaden sky
greeted us the next morning as we lay beside the half…submerged
levee of Sacramento。 Here； however； the novelty of boats to convey
us to the hotels was an appeal that was irresistible。 I resigned
myself to a dripping rubber…cased mariner called 〃Joe；〃 and；
wrapping myself in a shining cloak of the like material； about as
suggestive of warmth as court plaster might have been； took my seat
in the stern sheets of his boat。 It was no slight inward struggle
to part from the steamer that to most of the passengers was the
only visible connecting link between us and the dry and habitable
earth； but we pulled away and entered the city； stemming a rapid
current as we shot the levee。
We glided up the long level of K Streetonce a cheerful； busy
thoroughfare； now distressing in its silent desolation。 The turbid
water which seemed to meet the horizon edge before us flowed at
right angles in sluggish rivers through the streets。 Nature had
revenged herself on the local taste by disarraying the regular
rectangles by h