by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XIX
ANTICIPATION
To give a clear picture of the preparations for that fiesta, one shouldbe able to draw with strokes as swift as the horses that galloped up anddown the valley at the behest of riders whose minds titillated withwhatever phase of the fiesta appealed to them most; and paint withcolors as vivid as were the dreams of the women, from the peonas in thehuts to the senoritas and senoras murmuring behind the shelter of theirvines.
One would need tell of those who went boldly into the mountains to finda grizzly bear and bring it alive and unhurt to the pen, which thepeons, with feverish zeal and much chattering amongst themselves, werebuilding close beside the smallest corral.
A great story it would make--the tale of that hunt! A man came back fromit with a forearm torn sickeningly, to show how brave he had been. Andthe bear came also--a great, gaunt she-bear with two cubs whimperingbeside her in the cage, and in her eyes a sullen hunger for the giantredwoods that stood so straight and strong together upon the steepslopes while they sang crooningly the songs she knew of old, and aglowing hatred for her captors.
A story that would make! A story in which Jerry Simpson and Tige playedvaliant part and bore more than their share of the danger, and becameheroes to those who went with them.
One would need to picture somehow the bubbling excitement of Teresita,while she planned and replanned her festal garments, and tell how oftenshe found it necessary to ride with Jack across the valley to talk thematter over with the "pretty Senora" Simpson, or to the Mission San Joseto see what Rosa had at last decided to wear.
Then, there would be the solemn conferences in the kitchen, betweenMargarita and the senora herself; conferences that had to do with cakesand preserves and the like, with the ninos getting in every one's way,while they listened and smacked lips over the very naming of so manygood things to eat.
One would need see the adobe corral that was to be transformed into anamphitheater where were hammering and clatter from sunrise till dark,without even a pause for midday siesta amongst those lazy peons whowould sleep over their cigarettes, though the padres stood over thempredicting the end of the world the next moment.
Well in the foreground of the picture would be Jack, to be sure; Jackriding far afield upon Surry, whom he had found the best horse for hispurpose upon the whole ranch; lassoing cattle to get his hand in,practising certain little twists of his own invention, and teachingSurry to know without fail just what certain signals meant, and obeyinstantly and implicitly when they were given.
Sometimes, when the senorita was not in a perverse mood, she would ridewith him and applaud his dexterity; at other times she would boast ofJose's marvelous skill, and pity Jack in advance for the defeat whichshe pretended was inevitable. Whether she pitied or praised, she seemedalways sincere for the moment, so that Jack gave up any lingering hopeof knowing how she really felt about it, and contented himself with thedetermination to deflect all the pity towards Jose when the time came,and keep the praise for himself.
There would be other contests; and scarce a day passed wherein no horseloped heavily up the slope and stopped with heaving flanks in the patio,while its rider dismounted and bowed low before Don Andres, giving newsof some vaquero who wished his name to be listed as a contestant in theriding, or the lassoing and tying of steers, or in the bull-fight,perchance.
But there was no third name offered in the riata contest for whichSolano was announced as a prize. All up and down the valley; at theranches, on the trails when men met and stopped to talk awhile, andaround the camp-fires of the rodeo they talked of it; and many betswould have been laid upon the outcome, had not all men been of one mind.When Jose was not present, or Dade, or the more outspoken of the Picardovaqueros, always they spoke of it as the duelo riata, and took it forgranted that it would be fought to the death. Thus are secrets kept frommen who can read from their own natures the truth! The men of SantaClara lowered lids and smiled whenever they spoke of it as a contest,for as a duel had the word first gone forth from the exultant lips ofManuel; as a duel would it still remain among themselves, spite of thefiesta and the prize that was offered, and the reiteration that it wasbut sport.
One should picture the whole valley for the background; a sunkenparadise of greenery, splotched with color, made alive with bird-songsand racing cloud-shadows on the grass; with the wooded slopes of theSanta Cruz mountains closing in upon the west and sheltering it from thesweeping winds from off the ocean, and the grassy hills rising high andrugged on the east, giving rich pasturage to the cattle and all the wildthings that fed there.
When it was complete--that picture--then might one weep to be there inthe midst of it all! For there would be much laughter, and thelove-making would make young pulses beat fast to think upon. There wouldbe dancing, and the tinkle of guitars and mandolins, and a harp or twoto beat a harmonious surf-song beneath the waves of melody. There wouldbe feasting, with whole beeves roasted over pits which the peons werealready digging in their dreams; with casks of wine from the don's ownvineyard to wash down the juicy morsels. There would be all thatthroughout one long, moonlit night, with the day of sports to think backupon. And through the night they would talk of the duelo riata betweentwo men who loved one little senorita who laughed much and cared little,said certain wise senoras, and nodded their heads while they said it.
What if some hearts were bitter over the prospect? From Santa Barbara,even, were they coming to the fiesta! (Gustavo had the news from a peonwho came straight through from Paso Robles on an errand for his master.)
What if Dade, thinking and thinking until his brain was dizzy, lay longhours awake in his blankets and stared up at the star-sprinkle in thepurple night-sky, trying to find a path that would lead to peace? Thesenorita lay awake also, thinking smilingly that she had nearly finishedthe embroidery upon the bodice she meant to wear, and that the prettysenora had promised to do her black hair in a new and wonderful way thatshould smart with envy the eyes of all the other senoritas when theysaw; and that the senora her mother had reluctantly promised that sheshould wear the gold chain with the rubies glowing along every littlethumb-length of it; thinking also, perhaps, of how she had made theSenor Jack's eyes grow dark and then flash anger-lights, when shetaunted him again about going to the wise old woman at the Mission SanJose for a charm to make the riata fly true!
What if the old don, seeing also that trouble hung like a vulture overthe feast, paced uneasily up and down the vine-hidden veranda, while hemeditated upon the follies of youth? The young steers that had beendriven in for the roasting-pits were trampling uneasily about the littlecorral where they had been put to fatten; and Gustavo walked with hishead thrown back upon his shoulders that he might read that open pagewhich was the sky, and to any anxious ones who asked, he had but oneanswer and that a comforting one:
"The day will be a day of sunshine, with linnets singing in the treesand the smallest breeze to cool the cheek." The anxious ones, hearing sogood an augury, would pass on, their thoughts upon the day-of-days andon their lips a little smile.