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Show . . - Mistress o Monterey VIRGINIA STIVERS BARTLETT ffi Virginia Stivers Bartlett YTKV Service SYNOPSIS In Spanish-governed California of 1783 conflict between Church and State is represented by two friendly enemies, frail old Fray Junipero Serra, Franciscan Francis-can missionary, and Don Pedro Fages, civil governor. After telling Serra he is lending to Mexico for his wife and son, whom he has not seen for eight years, he refuses his aid toward founding the Santa Barbara Missio. In Mexico City, Dona Eulalia. accompanied by her duenna, Angustias, An-gustias, arrives at the embassy In re-iponse re-iponse to a letter from her husband, Bon Pedro. She agrees to go to California. Cali-fornia. Don Pedro sends for Serra, telling tell-ing him that two priests are on their way from Mexico with Eulalia and young Pedro and that he is leaving to met them. Fages engages a young Indian girl, Indizuela, as maid for Eulalia. Eulalia Eu-lalia sails from San Bias. It is a desolate deso-late trip. CHAPTER IV Continued "Ha!" she said again. "So! This beautiful land sends a scourge of vermin to plague me! Very well. I shall not weep I shall not weaken. I shall conquer this California or I will die." She summoned little Pedro to her, and all afternoon, to the accompaniment accompani-ment of a dismal sand-scattering breeze, beguiled his imagination and comforted her desolation with stories sto-ries that began, "When I was a little lit-tle girl in beautiful Barcelona " For several days the ancient capital capi-tal of Baja California stirred from its sun-and-sand-smitten lethargy to prepare La Gobernadora, as they already al-ready called Dona Eulalia, for her long journey to Monterey in California Cali-fornia Alta. But the troubles with stubborn Indians trying to dispose of more stubborn burros, the difficulty diffi-culty in finding and buying satisfactory satis-factory riding and pack animals, the labor of packing and provisioning food, water and clothing for a trip that would endure for months, con-cered con-cered the lady not at all. When at last the long caravan left Loreto, Eulalia was fairly comfortable comforta-ble on a white Spanish jennet. It was a strange assortment of pilgrims which rode away from Loreto Lo-reto that morning at sunrise: La Gobernadora herself, hiding her trepidation beneath a demeanor carefully calm, but unusually pale; small Pedro, triumphant on a burro almost as small as himself; Angus-tias, Angus-tias, her brittle bones boring her flesh agonizingly before Loreto was a mile behind, holding Chichi, the monkey, who was as afraid of the mule as the mule was of him. At the head of the van rode one Capi-tan Capi-tan Canete, serious, troubled by his responsibility, a seasoned traveler and admiring friend of Pedro Fages. There were cooks, muleteers, mule-teers, water-tenders, vaqueros, Indian In-dian runners and bearers, tortilla-makers, tortilla-makers, wood-cutters, soldiers and stragglers. A little to themselves, heads withdrawn with-drawn into the cowls of their Franciscan Fran-ciscan robes, two priests rode, their presence in the expedition an answer an-swer to Junipero Serra's prayers. In the northern reaches of California Cali-fornia Alta a hurrying party of horsemen followed the flying horse of the Governor of the Californias, spurred and lashed by his rider as the rider was spurred and lashed by hot impatience. CHAPTER V Leagues of Eulalia's journey lay behind; many terrible leagues traversed trav-ersed doggedly, day and night, with heat, dust, hirst, weariness and an awful numbing fear of the unknown that robbed her of rest When, at the end of a day's travel, Eulalia lay on her pallet and felt sleep must come, that the blessing of complete oblivion and release from suffering would at last requite her, the blessing was denied. Always Al-ways at the moment when she seemed slipping into unconsciousness, unconscious-ness, a rude hand gripped her weary heart and shook it cruelly, until her whole body trembled and sweat coldly. During the first nights she would cry out, and creep to little Pedro's side for comfort, or summon An-gustias An-gustias to her. Then she grew ashamed of her childishness, and only lay the quieter when her fear specter haunted her. Sitting before her campflre one night at the end of a trying day, she questioned herself. Why had she been persuaded to come on this journey? She, who was born to lux-nrv lux-nrv soft cushions and luxurious coaches? Lifting her face she stared at the fire. "Queen of the Californias!" she muttered bitterly. . Angustias, bustling into the circle of light broke into her rebellious musings. "The two priests are coming to call on you, Dona Eulalia." she announced. an-nounced. Eulalia did not move. "Yes?" she questioned dully. "Yes, and I think it's about time. Do you know, nina, I think there is something queer about those two. I have heard " Eulalia sniffed as her duena, with Chichi in her arms, hunched closer .o the fire. "You would hear gossip on a desert des-ert isle, and you the only soul on it," she remarked, bending her ear, nevertheless, nev-ertheless, closer to her companion. "I have heard," continued Angustias, Angus-tias, "that there are two people on this journey who are being sent to California as a punishment for their sins, and I wondered . . ." Eulalia flung out her arms dramatically. dra-matically. "A punishment for their sins! And I am sent to reap a reward for my virtues! A strange country, this California, Cal-ifornia, to which, at the same time, people are sent for punishment and reward!" Angustias nodded. "Yes, it is. I am wondering who will get what Sh-h-h, here they come." Into the light of the fire two brown-clad figures loomed out of the shadows. "Greetings, Senora La Gobernadora," Goberna-dora," said a solemn voice, "I am Fray Mariano, and this is Fray Bar-tolome, Bar-tolome, two poor brothers of the "1 See. And Are You Enjoying This Journey?" mendicant order of San Francisco." "Greetings to you, good Fathers," replied Eulalia. "Will you not sit down by my fire?" They disposed themselves on the ground and stared fixedly at the lady. la-dy. Then they exchanged a long look and nodded. Eulalia was in her turn studying them. They were young for friars, and looked strangely alike, though one, Fray Mariano, looked slightly older. Their tonsures were quite black, and their black eyes very much alive. But Fray Mariano's look was direct to the point of impudence, im-pudence, and Fray Bartolome's glances slid about indirectly. Both had sensual mouths, but again with a difference; the lips of one turned up in a sly grin, the other turned down the corners of his mouth with a sanctimonious sneer. They were silent, and Eulalia tried uncomfortably uncomforta-bly to open a conversation. "You resemble each other very much," she said. "Are you brothers?" broth-ers?" "Ah, no, only brothers in God," Intoned Fray Mariano. "My family name is Rubi, and Fray Bartolome's name is Gili." "I see. And are you enjoying this journey?" This started a long tirade from Fray Mariano. They decidedly were not. He complained of everything: the escort, the trails, the food, the tents provided for them, their mules, everything. Fray Bartolome coughed slightly, and gave his companion a nudge, which the skeptical Angustias observed. ob-served. The other stopped suddenly. sudden-ly. "But we are resigned," he intoned. in-toned. "Yes, we are resigned. It is God's will we should make this pilgrimage, pil-grimage, so we do not complain. Do you think we are complaining?" he asked Eulalia anxiously. "If you do I am sure it is with good cause," she replied. Later, after the two priests departed de-parted and Angustias was brushing her mistress' hair, she remarked: "I don't know how it appears to you, but those do not seem true religious men to me." "They are strange. I can not understand un-derstand them, Angustias. Their eyes! And how they stare. But they are Franciscans, after all, and must be . . . but I don't understand them. They make me feel uncomfortable, uncom-fortable, Angustias." CHAPTER VI In the Valley of Comondu. an oasis oa-sis in the barren heart of Baja California, Cali-fornia, La Gobernadora was entertained enter-tained at Mission San Jose de Comondu. Co-mondu. beloved of all travelers, soldiers sol-diers and priests, who made the dreary trip up and down the peninsula. penin-sula. For days they rested there, refreshed by the sparkling waters of an abundant stream, and by figs. pomegranates, peaches and dates beneath the clashing fronds of giant gi-ant palms. There was a halt at Santa Rosalia de Mulege, on the Vermillion sea, where there was another old stone mission and fruitful gardens. From there the cavalcade traveled over a horrible wilderness well-named Ti-erra Ti-erra del Infierno, Hell country, which quaked constantly as they traversed its barrenness. By a broad flat camino, built many years before by Jesuit missionaries mis-sionaries who had urged hundreds of Indian neophytes to the colossal task by flogging them when they lagged, they traveled to the Mission San Ignacio, which stood in a fertile arroyo that opened in a barren mesa. Leaving there with water-skins and casks bulging for the desert travel ahead, they traveled northward, north-ward, skirting the eastern edge of the Desert of Vizcaino, a treacherous treacher-ous terrain. At Mission Santa Gertrudis, In a great mountain-girt amphitheater, all gave thanks that they had arrived ar-rived in safety, though their water-skins water-skins were lean and dry. At Santa Gertrudis, Eulalia heard first rumors of the approach of her husband. Indians coming from the north reported fires that burned by night, and a party of horsemen who traveled swiftly by day. La Gobernadora still rode silently, silent-ly, uncomplainingly. It was only her pride that kept her from flinging fling-ing herself from her horse on to the ground, and screaming until the tension that was holding her quivering quiver-ing nerves shattered in a satisfying hysteria. At night, in her tent or by the campflre, she was subject to changing moods; sometimes gloomy, silent, brooding, sometimes bright with febrile gaiety. Angustias was watching her mistress mis-tress doubtfully, gauging her temper, tem-per, her experienced weather eye reading infallible signs that her lady's la-dy's nerves were frayed to a breaking break-ing point, and that a hurricane was due to break. "If she can only wait until we meet Don Pedro," she prayed. "She needs her husband at a time like this." The hurricane arrived before the Governor. One evening, just before nightfall, the storm broke. They had been traveling for days among the lofty Calmalli mountains, that stretch along the waist, or narrowest nar-rowest part of the peninsula. Eulalia, shivering as night came on, for now the nights were as cold as the days were hot, rode beside little Pedro. Behind came Angustias, Angus-tias, cuddling her monkey as they both dozed. At the head of the van rode the Capitan. Little Pedro leaned closer to his mother and whispered. Eulalia frowned. "On my soul, child! We can not stop now! Control Con-trol yourself." But the child would not be controlled. con-trolled. He stopped his burro, threw the reins toward Angustias, and disappeared in the brush. Angustias, startled from her nap, made a lunge at the reins, missed them and brought her hand sharply against Chichi's face. The terrified monkey, in turn awakened rudely from his little snoozing, leaped straight for Pedro's burro, and the burro bolted off the trail. "Chichi!" screamed Angustias, trying to get from her clumsy sidesaddle. side-saddle. "Chichi! Baby!" But the little burro and his detested detest-ed frightened burden went careening careen-ing away in the dusk. Capitan Canete wheeled to Eulalia's Eula-lia's side, just as Angustias slipped on to the dusty trail, screaming and crying. "My Lady!" exclaimed the Capitan. Capi-tan. "What is the matter?" But Eulalia only pointed after her fleeing companion. "Will you help her?" she asked, struggling for control. "Will you help her to catch that fool little Chichi? He has eloped with Pedro's burro!" "Oh, damn that ape, and damn that ass! Oh, pardon me, Senora but I are you all right, my Lady?" "Yes, yes, of course. Oh, here she comes!" Out of the dusk came Angustias, trying to hold the monkey which struggled and clawed in furious panic. It had pulled the woman's gray hair in tatters over her face, and she looked like a witch emerging emerg-ing from the night "He doesn't know me! He is mad from fright! Oh, my little darling, my sugar-plum, you are safe In your mother's arms. There, there!" The Capitan exploded. "By the holy bones of Saint Bartholomew, Bar-tholomew, woman! Why didn't you get the burro? Here you," to an Indian, In-dian, "fetch back that animal." Grinning, the Indian loped away. He hated and feared Chichi as the rest of the natives did. Angustias climbed on to her horse again, soothing her weeping treasure. treas-ure. The Capitan heaved a sigh. "Well," he said, "are we all " But suddenly a piercing shriek came from somewhere, a long high wail that ended in, "Ma-a-a-amal" Eulalia slipped from her jennet "Pedro, Pedro! What is itl My God" Before the Capitan could reach her, she had met the child and had him clasped in her arms. "Mama, look! Look, mama! Ai, ai! I am hurt! Ai, ai, ai!" "What has happened? What is it? Do no cry, speak to me!" He held out his hands to her. "Look, cactus! All the needles ran in me! Ouch, ai, ai, ai!" The Capitan took the child from his mother and set him on his own knee as he squatted on the trail. "Yes, yes. What happened?" "I was back there in the bushes a big black something came after me and I ran, and stumbled into the cholla ouch, ouch!" His face and arms were swelling from the hundreds of needles that had penetrated his skin, stinging him to agony as he strove to scratch them out. Canete took firm hold of his wrists. "Don't scratch! Dona Angustias, let down your hair!" Angustias put her hand to her scant gray locks in bewilderment. "But why?" she stammered. "Because you must help this suffering suf-fering child. Only long hair will draw out cactus thorns. Quickly!" But young Pedro was already enveloped en-veloped in a flood of black tresses as his mother's hair tumbled about him, soothing his stings, and drawing, draw-ing, by some strange attraction, the needles from his flesh. At last his cries dropped to sobs, and his sobs to whimpers. Then he sniveled softly in his mother's arms. "Now, my brave little man, will you smile at Mother? Poor darling, poor little soldier!" "I want a drink of water," whimpered whim-pered Pedro. "He wants a drink of water," said Eulalia to Angustias. "He wants a drink of water," said Angustias to the Capitan. "He wants a but, by my life, there is no water!" "No water?" exploded Eulalia. "No water, Senora. But we are not far from the Spring of Santa Marita. Come. Let us get on our way before it grows darker. Come, my Lady." Eulalia grew very still. Canete leaned over her and touched her arm to assist her to arise. "Don't touch me," she said dangerously. dan-gerously. (TO BE COXTIXUED) |