And so it was.
The stakes having been placed, Darrell felt satisfied. Next day he would have the claim properly filed, and in due time a surveyor would measure them. All would be done “according to law,” and in this easy way more land was taken from its legitimate owner.
This certainly was a more simple way of appropriating the property of “the conquered” than in the days of Alaric or Hannibal.
There would have been bloodshed then. Now tears only flowed; silent tears of helpless discouragement; of a presentiment of impending desolation.
Sadly Doña Josefa and her daughters had witnessed from the half-closed shutters of their bedroom windows Mr. Darrell's performance, and fully anticipated serious trouble therefrom.
Don Mariano Alamar, Gabriel and Victoriano—his two sons—had also silently witnessed Mr. Darrell's lawful appropriation of their own property. Gabriel was pale and calm. Victoriano was biting his lips, and his face was flushed.
“The government has for sale hundreds of millions of acres, but yet these men must come and take my land, as if there was no other,” said Don Mariano, sadly.
“And as we pay the taxes on the land that they will cultivate, our taxes will double next year,” Gabriel added.
“Undoubtedly. That climax to injustice has been the most fatal of all the hardships imposed upon us. George could not believe me when I told him that we (the land-owners) have to pay the taxes on the land cultivated by the pre-emptors, and upon all the improvements they make and enjoy. When he at last understood that such unfair laws did exist, he was amazed, but understood then why the settlers wished to prolong litigation, since it is ‘the natives’ who must bear the burden of taxation, while the titles are in the courts, and thus the pre-emptors hold the land free.”
“I wish we were squatters,” Victoriano remarked.