The Valiant Runaways [43]
can do harm. Does not the Church teach
us to love all things? Now let us work and not talk."
The boys in turn hacked out great pieces of quartz and rubbed the free
gold loose. Much of it could only be crushed out in machinery made for
the purpose, but a sufficient quantity of the quartz was poor and soft.
As the boys worked, they grew more and more silent, more and more
absorbed. They forgot their delight in rodeo, coliar, bear-hunts, bull-
fights, riding about the ranches from morning till noon, the race, the
religious processions, the dulces of their mothers' cooks. A new and
mighty passion possessed them, the strongest they had ever known. Their
lips were pressed hard together--those soft Spanish lips that were
usually half apart--their eyes glowed with a steady fire. Their chests
rose and fell in short regular spasms.
Suddenly a thrill ran through Roldan. He had felt it before when a
rattlesnake, ready to strike, had fixed its green malignant eyes upon
him. He flashed the lantern about swiftly, twisting his neck with deep
anxiety. It would be no minor adventure to encounter a coiled rattler in
this narrow place. Then he saw something white shining out of the
darkness high above the rays, a large white disk, in which glittered two
points of light inexpressibly infuriate.
Roldan sprang to his feet with a warning cry. The other boys, greed
routed by the danger sense, were on their feet as quickly. As the three
lads, none very tall for his age, faced the gigantic bulk of the priest,
they looked cornered and helpless.
The priest, unconsciously beyond doubt, lifted his huge hands, opening
and shutting them slowly. The movement had an ugly significance, and the
hands, in the miserable glimmer of light, looked like great bats, and
seemed to pervade the cavern. Involuntarily the boys squirmed. Then
Roldan, mindful always of his proud position as captain of his small
band, stepped in front of that band and spoke with a vocal control that
did him much credit, considering that his heart seemed to be kicking in
the middle of his stomach.
"These hills are just beyond the Mission grant, Padre Osuna," he said.
"Nor are they on any rancho. Therefore what is in them is as much ours
as any man's. This is the first time that we have been here, but it will
not be the last; and when I am the governor of all the Californias, I
shall send many Indians to dig the very heart out of these hills. So
pick out all that you can now, Padre Osuna, for ten years hence--"
As he spoke fear gave place to exultation in finding himself pitted
against a man whom he intuitively respected more than any he had ever
met, and whom he knew most men feared and none understood. Moreover, he
heard two sets of teeth clattering behind him, and that alone would have
sent the blood of a born leader of men back to its skin.
But his speech did not proceed to the finish. The priest swooped down
and caught the three necks between his hands, easily spanning them,
pressing the heads hard together. Then he lifted the boys high in the
air and held them there, a kicking, humiliated trio. The blanched olive
of his face was reflected in the pallid brows at the extremity of his
rigid arms. His voice, which had been lost in passion, found itself.
"And when your Indians come, Senor Don Roldan," he said, "they will find
three skeletons six feet beneath the floor of this cave. You will never
leave this cave, not one of you. When you are dead for want of food and
drink, I shall return and bury you. And no one will seek you here."
Suddenly he dashed them to the ground. "A thousand curses go with you,"
he shrieked, "to make a murderer of me. I was near enough to hell
before--"
"And our fingers will scratch the ground beneath your feet," interrupted
Roldan, who between mortification and rage felt equal himself to murder,
but determined as ever to hold his own. "Our skulls will grin at you
from every corner as you work--"
"I don't care!" shouted the priest. "I don't care! Here you rot. This
gold is mine. No man
us to love all things? Now let us work and not talk."
The boys in turn hacked out great pieces of quartz and rubbed the free
gold loose. Much of it could only be crushed out in machinery made for
the purpose, but a sufficient quantity of the quartz was poor and soft.
As the boys worked, they grew more and more silent, more and more
absorbed. They forgot their delight in rodeo, coliar, bear-hunts, bull-
fights, riding about the ranches from morning till noon, the race, the
religious processions, the dulces of their mothers' cooks. A new and
mighty passion possessed them, the strongest they had ever known. Their
lips were pressed hard together--those soft Spanish lips that were
usually half apart--their eyes glowed with a steady fire. Their chests
rose and fell in short regular spasms.
Suddenly a thrill ran through Roldan. He had felt it before when a
rattlesnake, ready to strike, had fixed its green malignant eyes upon
him. He flashed the lantern about swiftly, twisting his neck with deep
anxiety. It would be no minor adventure to encounter a coiled rattler in
this narrow place. Then he saw something white shining out of the
darkness high above the rays, a large white disk, in which glittered two
points of light inexpressibly infuriate.
Roldan sprang to his feet with a warning cry. The other boys, greed
routed by the danger sense, were on their feet as quickly. As the three
lads, none very tall for his age, faced the gigantic bulk of the priest,
they looked cornered and helpless.
The priest, unconsciously beyond doubt, lifted his huge hands, opening
and shutting them slowly. The movement had an ugly significance, and the
hands, in the miserable glimmer of light, looked like great bats, and
seemed to pervade the cavern. Involuntarily the boys squirmed. Then
Roldan, mindful always of his proud position as captain of his small
band, stepped in front of that band and spoke with a vocal control that
did him much credit, considering that his heart seemed to be kicking in
the middle of his stomach.
"These hills are just beyond the Mission grant, Padre Osuna," he said.
"Nor are they on any rancho. Therefore what is in them is as much ours
as any man's. This is the first time that we have been here, but it will
not be the last; and when I am the governor of all the Californias, I
shall send many Indians to dig the very heart out of these hills. So
pick out all that you can now, Padre Osuna, for ten years hence--"
As he spoke fear gave place to exultation in finding himself pitted
against a man whom he intuitively respected more than any he had ever
met, and whom he knew most men feared and none understood. Moreover, he
heard two sets of teeth clattering behind him, and that alone would have
sent the blood of a born leader of men back to its skin.
But his speech did not proceed to the finish. The priest swooped down
and caught the three necks between his hands, easily spanning them,
pressing the heads hard together. Then he lifted the boys high in the
air and held them there, a kicking, humiliated trio. The blanched olive
of his face was reflected in the pallid brows at the extremity of his
rigid arms. His voice, which had been lost in passion, found itself.
"And when your Indians come, Senor Don Roldan," he said, "they will find
three skeletons six feet beneath the floor of this cave. You will never
leave this cave, not one of you. When you are dead for want of food and
drink, I shall return and bury you. And no one will seek you here."
Suddenly he dashed them to the ground. "A thousand curses go with you,"
he shrieked, "to make a murderer of me. I was near enough to hell
before--"
"And our fingers will scratch the ground beneath your feet," interrupted
Roldan, who between mortification and rage felt equal himself to murder,
but determined as ever to hold his own. "Our skulls will grin at you
from every corner as you work--"
"I don't care!" shouted the priest. "I don't care! Here you rot. This
gold is mine. No man