The American restrained a smile as he thought of the sixty-five miles they had ridden across, and only one little German colony where fence or hedges were in evidence. For the rest all was fenced on the east by the mountains and on the west by the sea. On the north the Santa Barbara range would perhaps serve as a barricade, and south even the Mexican line raised no obstacle to roving herds.
"The fences will not come in our day, and it is all now to be a pleasure ground for your gay Don Rafael."
"Not so much of a pleasure ground as it looks, señor," observed Don Antonio dryly. "The same curse works still. It is good he marries a convent girl; it takes the prayers of Doña Luisa, and a saint besides, to clear these ranges of Barto Nordico, el Capitan."
The man on the serape shrugged his shoulders and lifted his head, resting it on his hands to listen better.
"Nordico? Oh, yes! the man with an eye for good horses."
"If it were only an eye," grumbled Don Antonio, "but the devil seems to have a hundred hands, and his reata touches only the first stock on the Arteaga ranches."
"Not only the Arteagas', I suppose?"
"Oh, you not hearing that?" and the older man's tone expressed surprise. "It going with the curse, maybe, we not knowing. Old Don Vicente have the brother Ramon, but Vicente buy up all Ramon's land some way. Ramon goes crazy mad, loco, on that account. And then his son, Barto, he study for the priest, that is when the war comes, and he is only little yet. He running away from school to fight; but all he can do is to carry the letters, he is so little and can ride so like the devil. He never is content to the American flags, no more than Doña Luisa, so he just keeping on to fight, and the government no getting him."
"Do they try?" asked the American.
"Do they—do they try? Since he joined Juan Flores, one dozen men in Capistrano have the sword cut or the bullet mark, who have gone to try for that reward. It is good money, but no one getting it. He is a devil."