“She has gone to the land of the Great Spirit, and He has blessed her,” said the Indian, filled with amazement to see the troubled face grow so calm in death.
They buried her in the shadow of the deep cañon, and the children were left alone. The kind Indian came every day to the cottage to look after them, bringing always a bag of tortillas and fruits.
One morning, about a week after the death of the step-mother, he found Catrina and Gracia just leaving the cottage. As he gave Catrina the tortillas she shook his hand long and kindly, and the tears glistened in her eyes, but she could not speak to tell him she was going away, never to rest, until she had led Gracia back to her home.
For many days the Indian returned with his bag of tortillas, and went sadly away, for the cottage was alone in the dusky shadows.
The children took the path to the right out of the cañon, then on up the steep mountain way. Catrina carried Gracia’s baby-clothes in her arms, and a large bag of tortillas, for she had eaten sparingly for a week, that she might have food for a long journey.
After awhile Gracia became weary, and then Catrina took her in her arms, though they seemed full, but the willing heart found a ready way to help her darling.
At last they reached the top of the mountain, so very worn and weary, that after they had eaten their dinners, Gracia fell heavily upon Catrina’s lap, but she could no longer support the weight of the child; so, folding her in her arms, they lay down upon the soft turf together and slept as soundly as though it had been a bed of down.
The shadows were growing very long when the young girls awoke, and all the west was glowing with fleecy amber clouds. The sunset in the clear pure atmosphere of the mountains seemed so much more rich and beautiful than in the dim cañon, that little Gracia’s eyes shone with delight.
“Oh! Catrina,” she exclaimed, “surely that is the glorious heaven we see before us. Do you not remember what the good padre told us, when he came to the cottage? Let us hurry, Catrina, ’tis not so very far. Perhaps we can get there before dark.”
Catrina caught the hand of the excited child, and making the sign of the cross, knelt down with her face toward the sunset, and prayed for the soul of the unhappy step-mother, for the little Gracia, whom she loved dearly, and last of all for herself.