Jose, the Story of a Mexican Boy.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 288, 6 December 1890, Page 3 (Supplement)

Jose, the Story of a Mexican Boy.

By Patience Sxapleton". Author of " The Major's Chriytmas," " Jeau McCluro," "Kady," etc. [Copyright 1890, by S. S.. McCluro.] The second summer we wont to Idaho Miss Jean insisted on going. She is such a determined young lady that her father, th° Professor, and her mother, myself aro somooimes unable to oppose her docidocl will. ' You see, mamma,' she said, soberly, ' I am quite good now. I'm live and a half and Gamma Fays I'm real trustor-worthy. It doesn'6 seem right for a mamma to go away off and leave her only little girl with a Gamuia and. Bridget, other girl's mammas don't.' Joan, big, brown-eyed, and positive, is a jjreat pnzzlQ to us two mild-manneiod people. The Professor, nGar-sighr.ed and absent-minded, is not to bo trusted Willi her at all, mid sometimes when I am absorbed in sketching I forgot the Httlo maid, who straightway gets into mirchief. Wo are not rich and cannot ailord a nurso for her on oar trips, that mean a half-year's closest economy, and Jean has been left to her grandmother's and Bridget's care. Our journeys mean our broad-winning: the Professor studies tho geology of a State and I tho picfcuresqno features. 'if you would be real good and mind every word I say,' I hesitated. ' I'm mostly always good, now, 1 says Jean ; ' and as Bridget is going this time she can Iceop an eye on me.' She convinced us, and we seb off for Shoshono Falls, with Bridget as cook and housekeeper, and Miss Joan for tho dearest bother in the world. A procession of small girls in eun bonnets accompanied her to tho train. ' I'll bring you all specimens,' Jean called at parting. She catches a great) many of her father's words. ' You will havo to hire a box-car, then,' he laughed. She mado friends all the long journey, and in the stago ride of twenty-five miles from Shoshone to the fails she occupied tho seat of honour with tho driver, a bluff, groybearded old man. Our-way is over an , alkali desert, interspersed with great masses of black lava and covered with sage brush, that affords shelter for thousands of rabbits.

'Them boo'fu! wabbifcs, , cried Jean. •There's 'nnff of 'em for every little boy, and girl in the world to have two for pets, an' no dogs to chase 'em. Ain't they neighbourly under the little trees ? Mister Driver, do fairies come and dance hero to the bunnies balls, and dwarfs and queer little witches como and hoodoo 'em all 'cause they wasn't invited to the parties V 'Now you hey got me, , grinned the driver. 'That curly head of yourn holds a heap. If you says there's them high jinks hero, there is, sarfcin there's jack-rabbibs. Git up, Smalley!' to one of tho horses. • Is he Smalley 'cause he's stunted,' Jean asked, 'or ain't he growed yet? Mamma lets the tncks down in my dresses. How do you let out his skin when ho grows V She was a question-mark all the way, but so fascinated the driver that he cautioned me afc parting to watch over her carefully, for the falls were so terribly dangerous. Wo drove from the plains down a sudden end of the land, down into a basin, the sides great lava cliffs, rugged and black, the centre a green oasis. Beyond the trees we saw tho gloam of a rivor, and the air resounded with the thunder of a mighty cabWβ stayed that night at the house in the valley, and in the morning crossed the river above the falls to our cabin. Tho river is wide hore and deep, with a ewift deadly current, and woe to him who_ crosses when the stream is very high or a wind blows down to the falls. A broken rowlock or oar means a terrible death. Below the calm waters a tumult begins, through seven channels among the rocka the fretted water swirls and roars, and there meeting, gathering together, foaming and crushing around a great grey boulder crowned with an eagle's neab that stands in midstream, it meets beyond and with a deafening roar leaps downward 229 feet. It is 750 feeb from shore to shore, and all that space an emerald torrent that flashes in the sun. Below a miat rises like a breath on a frosty day. On the further shoro is a black lava wall a thousand feet high on our side equally rugged shores, bub crowned with green trees that through the moafa parched seasons aro frosh and bright from the Spring to the Fall. Bolow the awful deluge is a whirlpool deeper and wilder than ever Schiller dreamed of or his diver sounded. No living thing could exist in it a moment. Far below this the Snako rivor, narrow, deep and dark, winds on between high black walls, through unfathomable canyons and untrodden lands. Once past tho rocks, balow the point one may dare cross, nothing can save. There is only a strip of. shore, and pitiless and cold, worn smooth as polished marble by the action of the waves, that granite sentinel. How long ib has stood there none can tell, how long it will defy that maddened, relentless current who can imagine ? To my mind Shoshone Falls with their weird setting in_ the lava cliffs and chasms are more awe-inspiring than Niagara. When we crossed in a boat, only one person with tho oarsman, we were forbidden even to place our hands on the gunwales of the boat, and had to sit as efcill aa we could. I kept Jean with me ; she knelb at my feet, her face hidden in my lap, and I knowing a chance movement of hers might bring on our destruction scarcely breathed until we were safe ashore. The Professor and several loads of otfr things were ferried across before Bridget would even come to the water's edge. Then she stood there and wrung her handa, solemnly bidding us farewell. She was going

home. ' Id's a sin to crass thim wathers in the jaws of death. I'm a dacint woman. I've tried to be, an' I'm goin , to die in me bed.' 'If I was still v/hen I'm called Jean, 'you can be, B'' T -"*■• cover

your i'aee and coino

• The paints presarve us !' cried Bridget, and flinging her apron over her face she got into the boat, sitting with rigid folded arm?. The Professor had to drag her out at the shore. ' Is me hair turned white now ? I don't b'lavo me own mother will iver know me agin. Ochono. I'll niver crose it agin. "I'll live in this wilderness "till the breath goes out'r mo. Bury mo here Professor, don't let the corp of me gib drownded in thore,' We found our cabin a ruin, doors and windows open, tho floor rotted and furniture and dishes gone. The Summer before tho Professor had hired a singularly lazy Mexican for a guide. Thio person made a trip into tho unexplored country around ua and brought back his dark-faced 'wife and son, a lad of fourteen. Tho Professor objected to supporting tho family, but the Mexican explained: 'Nifca she helpha senora cooka ; Jose work, also.' Both belied his words. Nita, idlo and diriy, lay about in the sun all day, and Jose, on pretense of fishing, made lifa a long picnic in the woods. Both stole all they could lay their hands on, bub I taught Joso better manners eventually. It wa3 altogether such a shiftless and helpless family that the Professor gavo them our cabin io dwelt in during the winter and paid the man to take care of our thing?.

' I read of a traveller once, , said the Professor, cheerfully helping in the house-clean-ing, ' who showed kindness to a dromedary, thus acquiring against hia will the faithfill creature's affection and maintenance. Never, by land or sc-a, could ho escape its presence. We start this year without s. dromedary.' 4 And I without Nita,' I laughed. Wβ were all merry, Bridget tinging in the kitchen, Jean washing dishes in a lively manner, making great play of work. 'Campin , out is so spiendid,' she said from tha dopths of a big apron. ' I'd like to be an emigrant child and bo dirty all tho time.'

Wo congratulated ourselves because wo had no dromedary, but I looked up suddenly started ab a stop, and there was ono in the door. A tall thin lad in ragged clothiug with a tatborod nombrcro over his black curls, shading a beautiful Spanish face with nofb dark oyes, clem- olive akin, fino foaburoa and red lips. In ono brown hand ho hold a coiled lariat, in tho other a broken frying-pan. It was Joso ! '1 brought aenora hor dish, , ho said in his musical broken English. ' IS was her proportairo.' 'You did nob leave much hero,' snapped tho Professor. ' Did you bring; rhe rest : ' Was thero moro'.' I know not, senor, , with an expressive shrug, ' Ydu oughli to know. , ' "Pardon, r>cnor, 1 oughfca to. I forget, 1 am troubles ; my farda ho die' 'I am so sorry,' I suid. • flo was not good man lika sonor,' continue! Joso, calmly. ' Ho taka monairo eenor, give him, go to Shoi-hono ; he drink yrai hard ; he uovaire hay so mooch monaito befo' nor co mooch whiskairo on that account. Hα cara nob that tho wind blows down stream, tho river so high : ho is takon ova'iro tho fall, nor nevairo find him.' ' Why didn't his mamma toll him to keep away from the river or he'd be tied with a string 2' asked Joan with anxious interest. ' His mamma dead—long timo, a hundred years,' said Jose, with a melancholy smile at Jean. ' My mother she hay took anothaire husband. I not like him. I hear senor haf bought a mustang. I bring ie to him from the Indians. I b'long to sonor's family now. Through him my father died. I liav no ono elso. Senor will need mo; the mustang ia, oh, co fierce ! ho is terrible. Ho must bo rode ovaire day. Senor fo'gebs tap, tap with him little hammor on tho rocks. Ho think notin else. Tho mustang must drink, hie pickot-ropo change fio he not starve hisself. I havo come.' ' Well, I suppose you'll have to stay,' said tho professor, helplessly. ' Yep, he will,' cried Jean. ' There isn't any little girta here, and I do gob so lonesome for eomo 6no to play with, and he can watch mo co Bridget won't have to call, "Coom orway from t.him wathers now," all the bime. And that dear little ehorb-leggod horSQ is mino to ride every day." ' You promised to be good,' I suggested. ' Bub you nevor said little horse : you never dreamed of such a butuful roal live thins?!' shrieked Jean. 'He is ono kitbon so penblo,' said Jose. ' You shall ride him beautiful, tatiea. I myself will take you.' They won 6 out band in band, frionds from that moment. 'If he only would understand trubhtelling,' sighed the Professor. 'Another dromedary) hub ho shall stay for Jean's sake.' Ho was so incorrigibly idle that Jose, so ready ab excuses, on pretence of hunting or fishing, he made lifo a long picnic. Ho loved Jean and sho was his faithful slave, even baiting hip hooks with wriggling worms and weeping over their sufferings. She was his eager targeb for lariat practice unt,il she was black and blue and I pub a stop to it. Ho was marvellously skilful in lassoing objects, and onco snared off the Professor's stiff hab, though with abject apologies ho explained ib was all an accident. I knowho could nob resist the temptation. 'I must bo skilful,' Jose explained to Joan, ' because I shall be a ranchero, with silver spurs, a rattlesnake skin on my sombrero. I shall ride among my cattle, so rich I shall be ono day, Bobe. J • You'll givome a teenby, tiny cow, won't you ?' pleadod Jean, the thirst of possession coming to her, 'and josb a miter pony.' ' All you desire, beautiful ono,'ho eaid, and seeing me looking, ' Senora alrso shall have all ehe wishes to paint, the mo3t worthy.' One night Bridget) tried to get him to wipe the dishes. ' Nivir a bit of wurk do ye do ; gib up here now a'V bestir yersilf. Sorry a bib of care that little haree gits. Come, now, fur I wanb to gib a look ab bhim wathor wid the suneit on 'em.' ' Woman, I will not,' hissed Jose. ' Oill take a sthick an' make ye. , 'I do woman's work ! I wash dishaia, I 1, , ehrioked Joso, white with anger. ' Beast, I am an Otero.' « ' What is that, now? , Bridgeb laughed, bub ho ran out of doors to my husband. "Thab-thafc has issulfccd me; but thab she cooks Bobe'a food I would revenge myself.' ' Well, Ofcerer's another wurd fur lazy, I take it,' said Bridget., 'Like tho flies, 1 'spose there's use for the loikes of him.' Josg took great interesb in Jean's fairy tales, and scon invented them himself, peopling the woods and rocks with all manner of fairy folks. One July afternoon I sab sketching near our crossing place, Bridgeb asleep under a tree nob far away,and Jean looking over my shoulder. Jose had jusfc returned from rowing the Professor across. I was putting in a background to a painting I called Jean and Jose. He in his ragged clothes and bare feet, the beautiful Spanish face under the tattered sombrero; Jean ab his side looking ab him with thab worshipping look in her brown oyes. I had him showing her the lariat, his manner and face explanatory. • Senora should have wait till I buy good clothe?—a jacket of velvet. I am mortify at my rags. ' Bub she's painting my old oalico gown, an' my stubby shoes,' said comforting Jean, ' even the miter hole in my hat. That's art, Jose. Sunday clothes isn't artistic 'cept my blue velvet one, I'm painted in that to p-ramma's. It's nice to bare a paintermama ; other girls only has fotergraphs. . They sab under a tree and Jose began to tell her a story about a princess changed infeo an easrle and kepb on the grey boulder in the river. «No boat can reach there, no one swim— only a fairy can save be/ from the witches. Her father, the king, is the big eaglo you saw there, her mother the mother eagle. She must stay there unt.U soma one picks a

tiny white feathor from back of her head. ' A mifcer white feader,' echoed Jean with breathless interest.

Soon .Fose, weary of his story, wandered off with his lariat, throwing it with marvellous accuracy, and Jean curled herself up for a nap. I moved a little further ou for a better light. Tho twitter of the birds, the rustle of fcha loaves chimed with tho rushing of tho river. It waa such a sunny bright; afternoon with v little breo/.e stirring , . Hark, what was that? A cry sharp and terrified, a child's cry of distress. Than my husband's voice in apjonised bones : ' Joan, don't jump, don't jump !' I ran to the liver ; Bridgcc, with ashen faco, crashing after me. ' The wather, the murtherin , wafcher !' I hoard her scream. Shall I over forgeb that scene "'. There beyond our aid, our frantic efforts, was fcho boat floating down thai) awful current, carrying with it tho hopo and joy of our lives. My bonnie, beautiful Jean, the sunlight glinting on her shining hair, her scared brown eyoa, her pitiful v/liite face. I soo those outstretched dimpled hands, cho shabby gown, her poor, little hat floating after the boat fchab Joae had partly fastened.

I saw my husband run alone tho further shore, leaping , from rock to rock, with such daring and skill that I know fear lent iiim wings. ' Don't leave the boa:,' bo kept calling , , and she answered : ' No, papa ; but) holp your Jean. She's so i'Oiry —so sorry !'

Drifting to doabh before our eyes, that brave lit bio figure, the pathetic cry of 1 1'apa, help me !'—and we so helpless. She wag past tho divided channels now, close to tho great gray boulder ; beyond that—ah ! there was no beyond for her. Aorosa the river I saw something rise en tho summit; of a great crag and then fall forward on ita knoes. It was tny husband. Mercifully lie could not sec her, but i could. I ran along tho shore till tho thicket thrust mo back or great boulders interposed. Bub Bridgeb helped mo on.

'i'ho boat was evon with t:ho boulder now, and I sank on my kneos, wringing ray helpless hands. I couIH hear Bridget's great tearless sobs. ' Papa, papa,' sho screamed. Suddenly on tho ridge of land, just fit that awful brink, roEO a flliffhb little figure, coming so quickly ib seemed to hava sprung from the earth. Ib braced itself againsb a rock knee-deep in bhe currenb and held poised eotnobhiag in its hand. ' Bebe, Bebe, look ab .Joso, , ho called. ' Your arms over your head. Ho—like me ; looka me, I toll you. Only Joso help you. I will catch yon in play, like we do. You pyii ropo tight; ib will catch you.' 'Tho bo;ib wobbles co. Papal papa!' screamed Joan. ' iMinda Joho or ho novairo likn you, miucL'i,' ho ehrioked.

K!i3 obeyed him, then forgot oil but him. A dark lino swept oub ncrosw fcho clnx-Ainfi blue above tho foaming wave?. I hoard the swish, I cried out, than darkness came upon mo end 1 fell forward on my faco. Quick us a flash Bridget passed mo and reached tho struggling lad in tima to help him land his burden from the jawa of death. Up <:o her waist in tho water, thinking only cf the child, her charge from its birth, tho good s;oul ran find brought the Jittlo f;till form ashore. Beaten and buffeted by the wavos, deeply ecarrod by tho paving lino thab had held hor by her waisb, but tho life had nob gone out of hor, and soon she was her bright, winsome self aeain. Joso poured water on my face from the hollow Of his hand, and then helped mo to tho cabin, wboro my darling lay in ho- little whilo bet!, its pillow no whiter than her face.

' 1 sleeped,' she said, when sho could talk, ' an' I dreamed of bho caglo princess and I woke up an' wan naught}' right away. I wenred to tho rivor, for I dreamed I'd find that curly white fodder there that could make hor a little girl again. You'd bo so pleased then, mamma, you wouldri'b scold a mite. There it was tbo fodder bobbing up and down in water. I gob into the boat ever so easy to reach for ib and tho boat) wonted itself, mamma. I didn'b mako ib, and there I wan junb a going down the awful falls, and I'd been such a bad girl 1 couldn't go to heaven. Tho cade folks never helped mo ab all; oven [tho princess nover looked over .the rock, bub Joso corned with tho lariat and* pulled mo into the water, and then I gob all funny and woke up hero. I'll never, novor go near tho river again, mamma. .

'Nob ef I've a fub lift from follerin' ye,' said Bridgeb.

Ib was all of two hours before my husband came. Ho had to go threo miles up tho river to the upper falls. When ho saw Jean he could nob speak. Hα wiped hia glasses nervously and coughed. *.Jueb cry right oub, papa,' said Jean, ' not) a sorry cry, bub a roal glad one. ,

Jose had disappeared and ab sonsefe wo wonb oub to tho falls hoping to meet him returning. Tho red light o! tho dying sun touched the high black erajfs, softened each rugged outline into boawty, glinted across the purplo shadows creeping down to tho ruins, »ud turned that chao3 of water into a- thousand hues and sparkles-—a river of blood, a paio pink like a beautiful dawn, and then, as all tho rosy light faded into grey and tho crags frowned black and awful, turned the torrent into a murky evil flood 6hat was all horror and fierceness, without a charm. As we lefb tho majestic scene, deafened by the war of waters, drenched by its heaven-reaching mist, the Professor pointed his cane at the fragments "of the boat still tossing in the maelstrom bolow the fails. ' Jean isn't there, , she said, clinging to her father's hand. ' Thanks to Jose,' ho cried. ' Senor, can you cay that?' camo in a broken voice, and the lad stagserod towards us from his hiding placo under the trees ' I did not watch her. I was not faithful. I did not even mako the boab fsisb. I hate myself. I wish I were dead. , "'Jose,'said bho Professor kindly, 'were Jean with tho fragments of boat) I would never* look upon your face again. That she is not is owing to your v?ise plan of rescue, and the way you carried it out. You saved her lifo. Never lob us speak of this again, bub if you desire you shall be Jean's brother from this time. lam nob rich, bub I can givo you a good home and an education."

' Bebo for my sister, Sanora my mother ; ah, ib is heaven, , cried the poor little lad, kissing my husband's hand. ' Soior to call mo son. I have nob been faithful.

do nob deserve ib. Sco, looka me,' he cried, dropping on hia knees and holding Jean's hand to his hearr, while sho looked ab him with wide, wondering eyes, ' I swear to be faithful to her all my life !'

They went on ahead, hand in hand. ' Ho's allus a play acbin', thab terteror,' said Bridget. .'lt's nateral, 'n arbor to-day I'm his frind. Them rope tricks of his'n saved the baby's life.'

Later Jose brought me in tho paintinp I had forgotten euvioualy enough it sold for more than any other work I had ever dono. Wβ stayed bub a week longer at the falls, and Jean would only cross the river with Jose, who went with us. Bridget was rebellious until an Indian, a greasy creature in a blanket, who had come for tho mustang, said : 'Give forty pony for squaw.' I knew the Professor pub him up to it. Bridget flashed her suitor a terrible look and stepped into tho boat. ' All the dacint ruin an' well-to-do I vo said RO to ; and to take up wid a black abrogineze like that.' She is tolling of ib to tbie day ! , I havo painted many pictures from my sketches afe Shosbone, but there is one I cannot put on canvas, though so deeply la it graven on my memory that I can give every detail, every effect of light and shade, every look on that dear face. It is my darling floating down the stream in an oarleaa boat, the sunshine glitteringon her red gold hair, her quivering lips, her

frightened eyes, her little helploss hands outstretched. I could not paint her cry, bat that rings in my heart yet ; it always will. Then I would like to painb hor rescuer, ho whose quick'brain saw the only way, whoso courago and skill carried it out —Joso.