then on the first risings, yellow patches of vineyards with red,
ploughed ground dotted with manzanitas. The high hills which formed the
background were rough and black.

In the hollow at the foot of the mesa was a newly formed pond on which
floated branches of trees, bits of wood and some broken pieces of
household furniture; about the grass was strewn the same sort of drift
and the grass itself was torn and bent and there were yellow-white bits
of foam upon it. At one side wedged between two encina trees lay the
roof of a house, on the edge of which a little child was sitting beside
the body of a man, who lying with one arm hung listlessly over the side
seemed asleep or dead. The pond was fast lowering, leaving its burden of
debris scattered about.

This was the scene which met the searching eyes of Jovita of Tulucay
Rancho as, mounted on her horse, she came around the knoll which hid the
house and buildings of the rancho from the meadow.

Jovita quickly alighted, took up the child in her arms, and seeing that
he was unhurt but simply dazed at his situation, placed him upon her
horse and gave her attention to the man who lay there, to all
appearances dead.

"Unfortunate man," she said aloud, unable to repress her tears, "his
wife has probably been lost and he has saved their child."

She took his hand in hers and felt that his pulse was yet beating; a
bruise on the temple seemed to be the only wound and was caused by the
blow which had stunned him.

As Jovita chafed his hands and smoothed his forehead, he opened his
eyes, and then looking about astonished at his surroundings, asked,
"Where is the Christchild? Surely I have saved him."

The little one from the back of the horse began in his strange tones to
sing the "Song of the Hemlock" in answer to Crescimir's enquiry.

"I hardly know where we are, for in the darkness and swift whirl of last
night I lost my way," he said, sitting up. "I remember now that
something struck me when the raft stopped. I thank God that the
Christchild was not lost, dear little fellow."

"Christchild?" exclaimed Jovita, looking at him in surprise, "Have you
given your boy that name?"

"I do not know, Senorita, who the child is, but he came to my door last
night, Christmas Eve, and brought me some of the merriest hours I have
had since I left old Illyria, and had not the flood carried away
everything, I would have marked yesterday as one of the happiest in my
life. He is a stran