Ramona

by Helen Hunt Jackson

  XIX

  AFTER leaving Father Gaspara's door, Alessandro and Ramona rode slowlythrough the now deserted plaza, and turned northward, on the river road,leaving the old Presidio walls on their right. The river was low, andthey forded it without difficulty.

  "I have seen this river so high that there was no fording it for manydays," said Alessandro; "but that was in spring."

  "Then it is well we came not at that time," said Ramona, "All the timeshave fallen out well for us, Alessandro,--the dark nights, and thestreams low; but look! as I say it, there comes the moon!" and shepointed to the fine threadlike arc of the new moon, just visible in thesky. "Not big enough to do us any harm, however," she added. "But, dearAlessandro, do you not think we are safe now?"

  "I know not, Majella, if ever we may be safe; but I hope so. I have beenall day thinking I had gone foolish last night, when I told Mrs. Hartselthat I was on my way to San Pasquale. But if men should come thereasking for us, she would understand, I think, and keep a still tongue.She would keep harm from us if she could."

  Their way from San Diego to San Pasquale lay at first along a high mesa,or table-land, covered with low shrub growths; after some ten or twelvemiles of this, they descended among winding ridges, into a narrowvalley,--the Poway valley. It was here that the Mexicans made one oftheir few abortive efforts to repel the American forces.

  "Here were some Americans killed, in a fight with the Mexicans,Majella," said Alessandro. "I myself have a dozen bullets which I pickedup in the ground about here. Many a time I have looked at them andthought if there should come another war against the Americans, Iwould fire them again, if I could. Does Senor Felipe think there isany likelihood that his people will rise against them any more? If theywould, they would have all the Indians to help them, now. It would be amercy if they might be driven out of the land, Majella."

  "Yes," sighed Majella. "But there is no hope. I have heard the Senoraspeak of it with Felipe. There is no hope. They have power, and greatriches, she said. Money is all that they think of. To get money, theywill commit any crime, even murder. Every day there comes the news oftheir murdering each other for gold. Mexicans kill each other only forhate, Alessandro,--for hate, or in anger; never for gold."

  "Indians, also," replied Alessandro. "Never one Indian killed another,yet, for money. It is for vengeance, always. For money! Bah! Majella,they are dogs!"

  Rarely did Alessandro speak with such vehemence; but this last outrageon his people had kindled in his veins a fire of scorn and hatredwhich would never die out. Trust in an American was henceforth to himimpossible. The name was a synonym for fraud and cruelty.

  "They cannot all be so bad, I think, Alessandro," said Ramona. "Theremust be some that are honest; do you not think so?"

  "Where are they, then," he cried fiercely,--"the ones who are good?Among my people there are always some that are bad; but they are indisgrace. My father punished them, the whole people punished them. Ifthere are Americans who are good, who will not cheat and kill, why dothey not send after these robbers and punish them? And how is it thatthey make laws which cheat? It was the American law which took Temeculaaway from us, and gave it to those men! The law was on the side of thethieves. No, Majella, it is a people that steals! That is their name,--apeople that steals, and that kills for money. Is not that a good namefor a great people to bear, when they are like the sands in the sea,they are so many?"

  "That is what the Senora says," answered Ramona. "She says they are allthieves; that she knows not, each day, but that on the next will comemore of them, with new laws, to take away more of her land. She had oncemore than twice what she has now, Alessandro."

  "Yes," he replied; "I know it. My father has told me. He was with FatherPeyri at the place, when General Moreno was alive. Then all was his tothe sea,--all that land we rode over the second night, Majella."

  "Yes," she said, "all to the sea! That is what the Senora is eversaying: 'To the sea!' Oh, the beautiful sea! Can we behold it from SanPasquale, Alessandro?"

  "No, my Majella, it is too far. San Pasquale is in the valley; it hashills all around it like walls. But it is good. Majella will love it;and I will build a house, Majella. All the people will help me. That isthe way with our people. In two days it will be done. But it will be apoor place for my Majella," he said sadly. Alessandro's heart was ill atease. Truly a strange bride's journey was this; but Ramona felt no fear.

  "No place can be so poor that I do not choose it, if you are there,rather than the most beautiful place in the world where you are not,Alessandro," she said.

  "But my Majella loves things that are beautiful," said Alessandro. "Shehas lived like a queen."

  "Oh, Alessandro," merrily laughed Ramona, "how little you know ofthe way queens live! Nothing was fine at the Senora Moreno's, onlycomfortable; and any house you will build, I can make as comfortableas that was; it is nothing but trouble to have one so large as theSenora's. Margarita used to be tired to death, sweeping all thoserooms in which nobody lived except the blessed old San Luis Rey saints.Alessandro, if we could have had just one statue, either Saint Francisor the Madonna, to bring back to our house! That is what I would likebetter than all other things in the world. It is beautiful to sleep withthe Madonna close to your bed. She speaks often to you in dreams."

  Alessandro fixed serious, questioning eyes on Ramona as she utteredthese words. When she spoke like this, he felt indeed as if a being ofsome other sphere had come to dwell by his side. "I cannot find how tofeel towards the saints as you do, my Majella," he said. "I am afraid ofthem. It must be because they love you, and do not love us. That is whatI believe, Majella. I believe they are displeased with us, and no longermake mention of us in heaven. That is what the Fathers taught that thesaints were ever doing,--praying to God for us, and to the Virgin andJesus. It is not possible, you see, that they could have been prayingfor us, and yet such things have happened, as happened in Temecula. I donot know how it is my people have displeased them."

  "I think Father Salvierderra would say that it is a sin to be afraid ofthe saints, Alessandro," replied Ramona, earnestly. "He has often toldme that it was a sin to be unhappy; and that withheld me many times frombeing wretched because the Senora would not love me. And, Alessandro,"she went on, growing more and more fervent in tone, "even if nothing butmisfortune comes to people, that does not prove that the saints do notlove them; for when the saints were on earth themselves, look what theysuffered: martyrs they were, almost all of them. Look at what holySaint Catharine endured, and the blessed Saint Agnes. It is not by whathappens to us here in this world that we can tell if the saints love us,or if we will see the Blessed Virgin."

  "How can we tell, then?" he asked.

  "By what we feel in our hearts, Alessandro," she replied; "just as Iknew all the time, when you did not come,--I knew that you loved me.I knew that in my heart; and I shall always know it, no matter whathappens. If you are dead, I shall know that you love me. And you,--youwill know that I love you, the same."

  "Yes," said Alessandro, reflectively, "that is true. But, Majella, it isnot possible to have the same thoughts about a saint as about a personthat one has seen, and heard the voice, and touched the hand."

  "No, not quite," said Ramona; "not quite, about a saint; but one canfor the Blessed Virgin, Alessandro! I am sure of that. Her statue, in myroom at the Senora's, has been always my mother. Ever since I was littleI have told her all I did. It was she helped me to plan what I shouldbring away with us. She reminded me of many things I had forgotten,except for her."

  "Did you hear her speak?" said Alessandro, awe-stricken.

  "Not exactly in words; but just the same as in words," replied Ramona,confidently. "You see when you sleep in the room with her, it is verydifferent from what it is if you only see her in a chapel. Oh, I couldnever be very unhappy with her in my room!"

  "I would almost go and steal it for you, Majella," cried Alessandro,with sacrilegious warmth.

  "Holy Virgin!" cried Ramona, "never speak such
a word. You would bestruck dead if you laid your hand on her! I fear even the thought was asin."

  "There was a small figure of her in the wall of our house," saidAlessandro. "It was from San Luis Rey. I do not know what became ofit,--if it were left behind, or if they took it with my father's thingsto Pachanga. I did not see it there. When I go again, I will look."

  "Again!" cried Ramona. "What say you? You go again to Pachanga? You willnot leave me, Alessandro?"

  At the bare mention of Alessandro's leaving her, Ramona's courage alwaysvanished. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, she was transformedfrom the dauntless, confident, sunny woman, who bore him up as it wereon wings of hope and faith, to a timid, shrinking, despondent child,crying out in alarm, and clinging to the hand.

  "After a time, dear Majella, when you are wonted to the place, I mustgo, to fetch the wagon and the few things that were ours. There is theraw-hide bed which was Father Peyri's, and he gave to my father. Majellawill like to lie on that. My father believed it had great virtue."

  "Like that you made for Felipe?" she asked.

  "Yes; but it is not so large. In those days the cattle were not solarge as they are now: this is not so broad as Senor Felipe's. Thereare chairs, too, from the Mission, three of them, one almost as fineas those on your veranda at home. They were given to my father. Andmusic-books,--beautiful parchment books! Oh, I hope those are not lost,Majella! If Jose had lived, he would have looked after it all. But inthe confusion, all the things belonging to the village were thrown intowagons together, and no one knew where anything was. But all the peopleknew my father's chairs and the books of the music. If the Americans didnot steal them, everything will be safe. My people do not steal.There was never but one thief in our village, and my father had him sowhipped, he ran away and never came back. I heard he was living in SanJacinto, and was a thief yet, spite of all that whipping he had. I thinkif it is in the blood to be a thief, not even whipping will take it out,Majella."

  "Like the Americans," she said, half laughing, but with tears in thevoice. "Whipping would not cure them."

  It wanted yet more than an hour of dawn when they reached the crest ofthe hill from which they looked down on the San Pasquale valley. Twosuch crests and valleys they had passed; this was the broadest of thethree valleys, and the hills walling it were softer and rounder ofcontour than any they had yet seen. To the east and northeast lay rangesof high mountains, their tops lost in the clouds. The whole sky wasovercast and gray.

  "If it were spring, this would mean rain," said Alessandro; "but itcannot rain, I think, now."

  "No!" laughed Ramona, "not till we get our house done. Will it be ofadobe, Alessandro?"

  "Dearest Majella, not yet! At first it must be of the tule. They arevery comfortable while it is warm, and before winter I will build one ofadobe."

  "Two houses! Wasteful Alessandro! If the tule house is good, I shall notlet you, Alessandro, build another."

  Ramona's mirthful moments bewildered Alessandro. To his slowertemperament and saddened nature they seemed preternatural; as if shewere all of a sudden changed into a bird, or some gay creature outsidethe pale of human life,--outside and above it.

  "You speak as the birds sing, my Majella," he said slowly. "It was wellto name you Majel; only the wood-dove has not joy in her voice, as youhave. She says only that she loves and waits."

  "I say that, too, Alessandro!" replied Ramona, reaching out both herarms towards him.

  The horses were walking slowly, and very close side by side. Baba andBenito were now such friends they liked to pace closely side by side;and Baba and Benito were by no means without instinctive recognitions ofthe sympathy between their riders. Already Benito knew Ramona's voice,and answered it with pleasure; and Baba had long ago learned to stopwhen his mistress laid her hand on Alessandro's shoulder. He stoppednow, and it was long minutes before he had the signal to go on again.

  "Majella! Majella!" cried Alessandro, as, grasping both her hands inhis, he held them to his cheeks, to his neck, to his mouth, "if thesaints would ask Alessandro to be a martyr for Majella's sake, likethose she was telling of, then she would know if Alessandro loved her!But what can Alessandro do now? What, oh, what? Majella gives all;Alessandro gives nothing!" and he bowed his forehead on her hands,before he put them back gently on Baba's neck.

  Tears filled Ramona's eyes. How should she win this saddened man, thisdistrusting lover, to the joy which was his desert? "Alessandro cando one thing," she said, insensibly falling into his mode ofspeaking,--"one thing for his Majella: never, never say that he hasnothing to give her. When he says that, he makes Majella a liar; forshe has said that he is all the world to her,--he himself all the worldwhich she desires. Is Majella a liar?"

  But it was even now with an ecstasy only half joy, the other halfanguish, that Alessandro replied: "Majella cannot lie. Majella is likethe saints. Alessandro is hers."

  When they rode down into the valley, the whole village was astir. Thevintage-time had nearly passed; everywhere were to be seen large, flatbaskets of grapes drying in the sun. Old women and children were turningthese, or pounding acorns in the deep stone bowls; others were beatingthe yucca-stalks, and putting them to soak in water; the oldest womenwere sitting on the ground, weaving baskets. There were not many men inthe village now; two large bands were away at work,--one at the autumnsheep-shearing, and one working on a large irrigating ditch at SanBernardino.

  In different directions from the village slow-moving herds of goats orof cattle could be seen, being driven to pasture on the hills; some menwere ploughing; several groups were at work building houses of bundlesof the tule reeds.

  "These are some of the Temecula people," said Alessandro; "theyare building themselves new houses here. See those piles of bundlesdarker-colored than the rest. Those are their old roofs they broughtfrom Temecula. There, there comes Ysidro!" he cried joyfully, as a man,well-mounted, who had been riding from point to point in the village,came galloping towards them. As soon as Ysidro recognized Alessandro, heflung himself from his horse. Alessandro did the same, and both runningswiftly towards each other till they met, they embraced silently.Ramona, riding up, held out her hand, saying, as she did so, "Ysidro?"

  Pleased, yet surprised, at this confident and assured greeting, Ysidrosaluted her, and turning to Alessandro, said in their own tongue, "Whois this woman whom you bring, that has heard my name?"

  "My wife!" answered Alessandro, in the same tongue. "We were marriedlast night by Father Gaspara. She comes from the house of the SenoraMoreno. We will live in San Pasquale, if you have land for me, as youhave said."

  What astonishment Ysidro felt, he showed none. Only a grave andcourteous welcome was in his face and in his words as he said, "Itis well. There is room. You are welcome." But when he heard the softSpanish syllables in which Ramona spoke to Alessandro, and Alessandro,translating her words to him, said, "Majel speaks only in the Spanishtongue, but she will learn ours," a look of disquiet passed over hiscountenance. His heart feared for Alessandro, and he said, "Is she,then, not Indian? Whence got she the name of Majel?"

  A look of swift intelligence from Alessandro reassured him. "Indian onthe mother's side!" said Alessandro, "and she belongs in heart to ourpeople. She is alone, save for me. She is one blessed of the Virgin,Ysidro. She will help us. The name Majel I have given her, for she islike the wood-dove; and she is glad to lay her old name down forever, tobear this new name in our tongue."

  And this was Ramona's introduction to the Indian village,--this and hersmile; perhaps the smile did most. Even the little children were notafraid of her. The women, though shy, in the beginning, at sight of hernoble bearing, and her clothes of a kind and quality they associatedonly with superiors, soon felt her friendliness, and, what was more,saw by her every word, tone, look, that she was Alessandro's. IfAlessandro's, theirs. She was one of them. Ramona would have beenprofoundly impressed and touched, could she have heard them speakingamong themselves about her; wondering how it had come about that s
he,so beautiful, and nurtured in the Moreno house, of which they all knew,should be Alessandro's loving wife. It must be, they thought in theirsimplicity, that the saints had sent it as an omen of good to the Indianpeople. Toward night they came, bringing in a hand-barrow the most agedwoman in the village to look at her. She wished to see the beautifulstranger before the sun went down, they said, because she was now so oldshe believed each night that before morning her time would come to die.They also wished to hear the old woman's verdict on her. When Alessandrosaw them coming, he understood, and made haste to explain it to Ramona.While he was yet speaking, the procession arrived, and the aged woman inher strange litter was placed silently on the ground in front of Ramona,who was sitting under Ysidro's great fig-tree. Those who had borne herwithdrew, and seated themselves a few paces off. Alessandro spokefirst. In a few words he told the old woman of Ramona's birth, of theirmarriage, and of her new name of adoption then he said, "Take her hand,dear Majella, if you feel no fear."

  There was something scarcely human in the shrivelled arm and handoutstretched in greeting; but Ramona took it in hers with tenderreverence: "Say to her for me, Alessandro," she said, "that I bow downto her great age with reverence, and that I hope, if it is the will ofGod that I live on the earth so long as she has, I may be worthy of suchreverence as these people all feel for her."

  Alessandro turned a grateful look on Ramona as he translated thisspeech, so in unison with Indian modes of thought and feeling. A murmurof pleasure rose from the group of women sitting by. The aged woman madeno reply; her eyes still studied Ramona's face, and she still held herhand.

  "Tell her," continued Ramona, "that I ask if there is anything I can dofor her. Say I will be her daughter if she will let me."

  "It must be the Virgin herself that is teaching Majella what to say,"thought Alessandro, as he repeated this in the San Luiseno tongue.

  Again the women murmured pleasure, but the old woman spoke not. "And saythat you will be her son," added Ramona.

  Alessandro said it. It was perhaps for this that the old woman hadwaited. Lifting up her arm, like a sibyl, she said: "It is well; I amyour mother. The winds of the valley shall love you, and the grass shalldance when you come. The daughter looks on her mother's face each day. Iwill go;" and making a sign to her bearers, she was lifted, and carriedto her house.

  The scene affected Ramona deeply. The simplest acts of these peopleseemed to her marvellously profound in their meanings. She was notherself sufficiently educated or versed in life to know why she was somoved,--to know that such utterances, such symbolisms as these, amongprimitive peoples, are thus impressive because they are truly andgrandly dramatic; but she was none the less stirred by them, because shecould not analyze or explain them.

  "I will go and see her every day," she said; "she shall be like mymother, whom I never saw."

  "We must both go each day," said Alessandro. "What we have said is asolemn promise among my people; it would not be possible to break it."

  Ysidro's home was in the centre of the village, on a slightly risingground; it was a picturesque group of four small houses, three of tulereeds and one of adobe,--the latter a comfortable little house of tworooms, with a floor and a shingled roof, both luxuries in San Pasquale.The great fig-tree, whose luxuriance and size were noted far and nearthroughout the country, stood half-way down the slope; but its boughsshaded all three of the tule houses. On one of its lower branches wasfastened a dove-cote, ingeniously made of willow wands, plastered withadobe, and containing so many rooms that the whole tree seemed sometimesa-flutter with doves and dovelings. Here and there, between the houses,were huge baskets, larger than barrels, woven of twigs, as the eagleweaves its nest, only tighter and thicker. These were the outdoorgranaries; in these were kept acorns, barley, wheat, and corn. Ramonathought them, as well she might, the prettiest things she ever saw.

  "Are they hard to make?" she asked. "Can you make them, Alessandro? Ishall want many."

  "All you want, my Majella," replied Alessandro. "We will go together toget the twigs; I can, I dare say, buy some in the village. It is onlytwo days to make a large one."

  "No. Do not buy one," she exclaimed. "I wish everything in our houseto be made by ourselves." In which, again, Ramona was unconsciouslystriking one of the keynotes of pleasure in the primitive harmonies ofexistence.

  The tule house which stood nearest to the dove-cote was, by a luckychance, now empty. Ysidro's brother Ramon, who had occupied it, havinggone with his wife and baby to San Bernardino, for the winter, to work;this house Ysidro was but too happy to give to Alessandro till his ownshould be done. It was a tiny place, though it was really two housesjoined together by a roofed passage-way. In this passage-way the tidyJuana, Ramon's wife, kept her few pots and pans, and a small stove.It looked to Ramona like a baby-house. Timidly Alessandro said: "CanMajella live in this small place for a time? It will not be very long;there are adobes already made."

  His countenance cleared as Ramona replied gleefully, "I think it will bevery comfortable, and I shall feel as if we were all doves together inthe dove-cote!"

  "Majel!" exclaimed Alessandro; and that was all he said.

  Only a few rods off stood the little chapel; in front of it swung ona cross-bar from two slanting posts an old bronze bell which had oncebelonged to the San Diego Mission. When Ramona read the date, "1790," onits side, and heard that it was from the San Diego Mission church it hadcome, she felt a sense of protection in its presence.

  "Think, Alessandro," she said; "this bell, no doubt, has rung many timesfor the mass for the holy Father Junipero himself. It is a blessing tothe village. I want to live where I can see it all the time. It will belike a saint's statue in the house."

  With every allusion that Ramona made to the saints' statues,Alessandro's desire to procure one for her deepened. He said nothing;but he revolved it in his mind continually. He had once gone with hisshearers to San Fernando, and there he had seen in a room of the oldMission buildings a dozen statues of saints huddled in dusty confusion.The San Fernando church was in crumbled ruins, and such of the churchproperties as were left there were in the keeping of a Mexican notover-careful, and not in the least devout. It would not trouble him topart with a saint or two, Alessandro thought, and no irreverence tothe saint either; on the contrary, the greatest of reverence, sincethe statue was to be taken from a place where no one cared for it, andbrought into one where it would be tenderly cherished, and worshippedevery day. If only San Fernando were not so far away, and the woodensaints so heavy! However, it should come about yet. Majella shouldhave a saint; nor distance nor difficulty should keep Alessandro fromprocuring for his Majel the few things that lay within his power. But heheld his peace about it. It would be a sweeter gift, if she did not knowit beforehand. He pleased himself as subtly and secretly as if he hadcome of civilized generations, thinking how her eyes would dilate, ifshe waked up some morning and saw the saint by her bedside; and how sureshe would be to think, at first, it was a miracle,--his dear, devoutMajella, who, with all her superior knowledge, was yet more credulousthan he. All her education had not taught her to think, as he, untaught,had learned, in his solitude with nature.

  Before Alessandro had been two days in San Pasquale, he had heard of apiece of good-fortune which almost passed his belief, and which startledhim for once out of his usual impassive demeanor.

  "You know I have a herd of cattle of your father's, and near a hundredsheep?" said Ysidro.

  "Holy Virgin!" cried Alessandro, "you do not mean that! How is that?They told me all our stock was taken by the Americans."

  "Yes, so it was, all that was in Temecula," replied Ysidro; "but in thespring your father sent down to know if I would take a herd for him upinto the mountains, with ours, as he feared the Temecula pasture wouldfall short, and the people there, who could not leave, must have theircattle near home; so he sent a herd over,--I think, near fifty head;and many of the cows have calved; and he sent, also, a little flock ofsheep,--a hundred, Ramon said; he he
rded them with ours all summer, andhe left a man up there with them. They will be down next week. It istime they were sheared."

  Before he had finished speaking, Alessandro had vanished, bounding likea deer. Ysidro stared after him; but seeing him enter the doorway of thelittle tule hut, he understood, and a sad smile passed over his face. Hewas not yet persuaded that this marriage of Alessandro's would turn outa blessing. "What are a handful of sheep to her!" he thought.

  Breathless, panting, Alessandro burst into Ramona's presence. "Majella!my Majella! There are cattle--and sheep," he cried. "The saints bepraised! We are not like the beggars, as I said."

  "I told you that God would give us food, dear Alessandro," repliedRamona, gently.

  "You do not wonder! You do not ask!" he cried, astonished at her calm."Does Majella think that a sheep or a steer can come down from theskies?"

  "Nay, not as our eyes would see," she answered; "but the holy ones wholive in the skies can do anything they like on the earth. Whence camethese cattle, and how are they ours?"

  When he told her, her face grew solemn. "Do you remember that night inthe willows," she said, "when I was like one dying, because you wouldnot bring me with you? You had no faith that there would be food. AndI told you then that the saints never forsook those who loved them, andthat God would give food. And even at that moment, when you did not knowit, there were your cattle and your sheep feeding in the mountains,in the keeping of God! Will my Alessandro believe after this?" and shethrew her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  "It is true," said Alessandro. "I will believe, after this, that thesaints love my Majella."

  But as he walked at a slower pace back to Ysidro, he said to himself:"Majella did not see Temecula. What would she have said about thesaints, if she had seen that, and seen the people dying for want offood? It is only for her that the saints pray. They are displeased withmy people."