“To whom do we speak?” asked the lieutenant.
“To a Christian Indian, señor. I am from the mission San Fernando, near to the Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Angeles (the Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels),” he explained. “I have been, by permission of the fathers, to visit my relatives in the Sierras, beyond here. Looking back, I saw you.”
“We are much obliged, señor,” answered the lieutenant, gravely. “Alight and sit. You are acquainted with the country?”
“Perfectly.”
“We are on our way east, to the American States. What lies across this range?”
“An arid, burning desert, señor; impossible for man or beast.”
“I remember it,” quoth Kit Carson, nodding. “I war across it with Ewing Young.”
“Lower down, señor,” corrected the Indian, politely. “By the Spanish Trail.”
“That war ’fore the Spanish Trail had been broken through; but it mout have been lower down, o’ course.”