By noon the clothes were all washed, and the children had spread them out on the tops of the bushes to dry. Then came lunch. “How good everything tastes!” said Yappa. “We are so hungry.”
In the afternoon they all rested and played. By evening the clothes were dry, and everything was made ready to start for home again.
The Spanish children were all tired, so they crowded down near their mother in the cart. There was a little room left in the cart, and they begged that Shecol and Yappa might come in with them instead of walking all the way home. Donna Maria said “Yes,” so Shecol and Yappa nestled down in a corner of the cart.
Yappa was sleepy, and she leaned her head against Shecol’s shoulder. As the sun went down, the Indians began to sing “Kyrie Eleison.” She whispered to Shecol, “That’s the song grandpa sang when he was a little boy, and Father Serra visited the Mission.”
“Yes,” said Shecol.
The cart jolted along. The Indians kept on singing. A red moon came up over the mountains. A flock of wild ducks whizzed by just over their heads. The frogs began to croak in the little ponds near the road, and the crickets began to sing in the long grass.
Yappa fell asleep and dreamed that she was a little cricket and that she was trying to learn to sing “Kyrie Eleison,” but that it was such hard work, because, every time she tried to sing, all she could say was “Katy Do.” She felt very badly, for she dreamed that Father Serra was coming toward her and that he wanted to hear her sing.
Soon she thought that Father Serra stood before her, and said, “I am Father Serra. Will you sing for me?”
She answered, “I will try, Father,” and began. But all she could say was “Katy Do,” so she stopped.
“I am so sorry, Father, I tried to sing ‘Kyrie Eleison,’” she said.