CHAPTER XIII
RETURNING FROM THE BALL
"My Captain, it has been a goodly night, one long to be remembered."
Señora Valentino and Captain Morando were riding along the rolling highway which led southerly from the Mission San José. A large portion of the company that had attended the ball traveled this same road, the men on their mounts, the women-folks mostly in carretas, though two or three, like Señora Valentino, preferred horseback.
"Our Mendoza is a lavish host. He does nothing by halves, like the worthy Californian that he is."
"Ah! yes. A wonderful man! A wonderful man!"
The señora reined in her horse. A rabbit, pursued by a hawk, was running toward them from the underbrush at the side. Double and dodge as it might, the little beast could not rid itself of its persecutor. Finally it lay, a little crumpled heap, not far from the señorita's horse, squealing for mercy. It found none, for the bird of prey drove its talons into the fur and started to carry away its victim.
The señora swung her horse in wide curve and struck the hawk with her riding-whip. It dropped the rabbit and flew fiercely at her. She struck it again, this time with the butt of the whip. It circled away, but returned to the attack and was hovering over the lady when Morando killed it with a pistol shot.
It was the occurrence of a moment; but the angry challenge of the hawk and the report of the firearm called the attention of the horseback riders as well as the dozing occupants of the carretas. Men shouted and women screamed. The peon riflemen came hurrying up, ready for battle.
"Señora, are you hurt?" solicitously inquired Morando.