Ere the cloudless moons were over, he had passed the Desert's sand.
Crossed the rushing Colorada and the dark Apache Land,
And his laden mules were driven, when the time of rains began.
With the traders of Chihuaha, to the Fair of San Juan.
Therefore watches Manuela—therefore lightly doth she start,
When the sound of distant footsteps seems the beating of her heart;
Not a wind the green oak rustles or the redwood branches stirs,
But she hears the silver jingle of his ringing bit and spurs.
Often, out the hazy distance, come the horsemen, day by day,
But they come not as Bernardo—she can see it, far away;