"Why, I thought the Indians were the first race."
"They must have driven out some other people, or driven them down to Mexico, perhaps. But I suppose girls don't need to know all this;" and he laughed. "Oh, look at this picture before we go."
The curve of the path down toward the rocky shore made a striking perspective. There was no wind, but the far-off waves had a golden crest that came nearer and nearer, as if bearing the treasures of the Orient; the air was full of spice and sweetness; wild grape, fern, cedar, and pine, fluttering butterflies, almost like small birds, made swift dazzles, or seemed to hang poised in the still air as if considering which way to take. The sea was marvellously blue, so was the sky overhead, but round the edges where it touched the sea there was a soft gray mistiness, here whitening, there taking on an azure tint.
He was mysteriously touched by beauty, though he was a whole-hearted boy, and occasionally dipped into fun of the unorthodox sort. Who could help it in such a wild country?
Miss Holmes nodded, she, too, was deeply moved. They turned about, the road was narrow and carpeted, one might say, with countless wild roses, flaming lilies, others as yellow as the palest sulphur color; little juniper trees, with their pale green shoots that had never yet seen sunshine; blackberry vines, that were in bloom at least six months of the year, with their starry crowns, and berries of all ripening colors. The horses kicked them aside, they were meet food for the birds.
They came farther inland through tall woods, great stretches of wild oats and barley, meadows that would presently be brown with burnt roots of vanished things. Here and there an adobe house, small children playing about in cotton shirts, and shouting with the same riotous glee that informed the bird's song.
Pelajo gave a whinny as they came in sight of the house that looked as if set among the rocks. Bruno rushed out. Balder gave a cry of welcome. They had all missed the little girl, who talked to them in a language they understood and loved.
"I hardly know how to thank you for such a delightful day," Victor Savedra said, in his refined manner that was hearty as well. "I had not thought of so much pleasure when I came. And I do hope to return it. You see, I haven't felt quite like a stranger, Aunt Grace has talked of you so often. We all like her so much. And at first we felt quite startled at the thought of uncle marrying a Yankee woman," and he smiled, with a sort of gay retrospection. "Yet, she had been so good to the aunt that died. But it is largely in the cultivation, don't you think? Many of those first Eastern people were of good birth, and they were fine pioneers, we can't deny that. And we shall plan for you to come over on some Saturday with her and the girls, for I want you to see mother."
Miss Holmes thanked him cordially, and the little girl said the same thing with her eyes and her smile.
Yet, after she had made the round of her pets, had a splendid drink of water, and seen Pelajo munching his wisps of alfalfa—Pablo would not give him too much at a time—she came in and sat down in her favorite low chair, while Miss Holmes was making some supper preparations, beating-up an old-fashioned cake of which Uncle Jason was very fond, and that suggested to him the weekly bakings in the old ovens back in Maine.