The Valiant Runaways [1]
discipline, of
performing hourly duties which did not suit his taste, above all of
being ordered to leave his father's house as if he were a mere Indian.
No, he decided, he would not go into the army--not this year nor any
other year. He would defy the governor and all his men.
When Roldan made up his mind he acted promptly. No time was to be lost
in this case. Now was the hour of siesta; he could have no better time
to get away. A note would relieve his parents of a certain amount of
anxiety; and if they did not know where he was they could not be held
accountable. His blood tingled at the presentiment of the adventures he
should have in that perilous journey through a country of which he knew
nothing beyond his father's and the adjoining rancho. And as adventures
would be but half spiced if experienced alone, he determined--and not
from selfish motives only--to save his best beloved friend, Adan Pardo,
from the grasp of the law likewise.
He went within and slung about himself two pistols and a dagger. After
he had made a small bundle of linen and raided the pantry, he went out
to the corral, saddled his horse and packed the saddle bags, wound his
lariat securely about the pommel, then galloped away on a series of
adventures memorable in the annals of California.
II
Roldan's way lay over his father's leagues until two hours after
nightfall. As he passed, every now and again, a herd of cattle, lounging
vaqueros called to him: "Ay, Don Roldan, where do you go?" or, "The
little senor chooses a hot day for his ride." But he excited no
curiosity. Like all Californians he half lived in the saddle; and he was
often seen riding in the direction of Don Esteban Pardo's rancho, to
spend a few days with his chosen friend.
As he approached the house he saw the family sitting on the long
verandah: the pretty black-eyed girls in full white gowns, their dark
hair flowing to the floor, or braided loosely; Don Esteban, a silk
handkerchief knotted about his head, reclining in a long chair beside
his wife, a stout woman, coffee-coloured with age, attired in a dark
silk gown flowered with roses. Indian servants came and went with
cooling drinks. Although it was December, Winter had loitered and fallen
into deeper sleep than usual on her journey South this year.
Adan was leaning against a pillar, moody and bored. He was the youngest
of the boys. His brothers, elegant caballeros, who spent most of their
time in the capital or on other ranches, were kind to their younger
brother, but not companionable. Therefore, when Roldan galloped into
sight, he gave a shout of joy and ran down the road. Roldan drew rein
some distance from the house, that the conference, which must take place
immediately, might be unheard by older ears.
"Listen, my friend," he said rapidly, interrupting Adan's voluble
hospitality. "The soldiers are out for conscripts--"
"Ay, yi!--"
"Now listen, and don't talk until I am done. I WILL NOT be drafted as if
I had no will of my own, and rot in a barrack while others enjoy life.
Neither will you if you have the spirit of a Pardo and are worthy to be
the friend of Roldan Castanada. So--I fly. Do you understand?--and you
go with me. We will dodge these servants of a tyrant government the
length and breadth of the Californias. When the danger is over for this
year we will return--not before. Now, you will ask me to go to my room
as soon as possible after you have given me some supper, for I am tired
and want sleep. You also will take a nap. When all is quiet I shall call
you and we will start."
Adan had listened to this harangue with bulging eyes and tongue rolling
over his teeth. But Roldan never failed to carry the day. He was a born
leader. Adan's was the will that bent; but his talent for good
comradeship and his quiet self-respect saved him from servility.
In appearance he was in sharp contrast to the slender Roldan, of the
classic features and fiery eyes. Short, roly-poly, with a broad, good-
natured face, his attire was also unmarked by
performing hourly duties which did not suit his taste, above all of
being ordered to leave his father's house as if he were a mere Indian.
No, he decided, he would not go into the army--not this year nor any
other year. He would defy the governor and all his men.
When Roldan made up his mind he acted promptly. No time was to be lost
in this case. Now was the hour of siesta; he could have no better time
to get away. A note would relieve his parents of a certain amount of
anxiety; and if they did not know where he was they could not be held
accountable. His blood tingled at the presentiment of the adventures he
should have in that perilous journey through a country of which he knew
nothing beyond his father's and the adjoining rancho. And as adventures
would be but half spiced if experienced alone, he determined--and not
from selfish motives only--to save his best beloved friend, Adan Pardo,
from the grasp of the law likewise.
He went within and slung about himself two pistols and a dagger. After
he had made a small bundle of linen and raided the pantry, he went out
to the corral, saddled his horse and packed the saddle bags, wound his
lariat securely about the pommel, then galloped away on a series of
adventures memorable in the annals of California.
II
Roldan's way lay over his father's leagues until two hours after
nightfall. As he passed, every now and again, a herd of cattle, lounging
vaqueros called to him: "Ay, Don Roldan, where do you go?" or, "The
little senor chooses a hot day for his ride." But he excited no
curiosity. Like all Californians he half lived in the saddle; and he was
often seen riding in the direction of Don Esteban Pardo's rancho, to
spend a few days with his chosen friend.
As he approached the house he saw the family sitting on the long
verandah: the pretty black-eyed girls in full white gowns, their dark
hair flowing to the floor, or braided loosely; Don Esteban, a silk
handkerchief knotted about his head, reclining in a long chair beside
his wife, a stout woman, coffee-coloured with age, attired in a dark
silk gown flowered with roses. Indian servants came and went with
cooling drinks. Although it was December, Winter had loitered and fallen
into deeper sleep than usual on her journey South this year.
Adan was leaning against a pillar, moody and bored. He was the youngest
of the boys. His brothers, elegant caballeros, who spent most of their
time in the capital or on other ranches, were kind to their younger
brother, but not companionable. Therefore, when Roldan galloped into
sight, he gave a shout of joy and ran down the road. Roldan drew rein
some distance from the house, that the conference, which must take place
immediately, might be unheard by older ears.
"Listen, my friend," he said rapidly, interrupting Adan's voluble
hospitality. "The soldiers are out for conscripts--"
"Ay, yi!--"
"Now listen, and don't talk until I am done. I WILL NOT be drafted as if
I had no will of my own, and rot in a barrack while others enjoy life.
Neither will you if you have the spirit of a Pardo and are worthy to be
the friend of Roldan Castanada. So--I fly. Do you understand?--and you
go with me. We will dodge these servants of a tyrant government the
length and breadth of the Californias. When the danger is over for this
year we will return--not before. Now, you will ask me to go to my room
as soon as possible after you have given me some supper, for I am tired
and want sleep. You also will take a nap. When all is quiet I shall call
you and we will start."
Adan had listened to this harangue with bulging eyes and tongue rolling
over his teeth. But Roldan never failed to carry the day. He was a born
leader. Adan's was the will that bent; but his talent for good
comradeship and his quiet self-respect saved him from servility.
In appearance he was in sharp contrast to the slender Roldan, of the
classic features and fiery eyes. Short, roly-poly, with a broad, good-
natured face, his attire was also unmarked by