e, but sat rocking back
and forth on the ground, with the baby in her arms. She went over to
Pachanga at the same time I did with my father. It was a long procession
of us."

"Where is Pachanga?" asked Ramona.

"About three miles from Temecula, a little sort of canon. I told
the people they'd better move over there; the land did not belong to
anybody, and perhaps they could make a living there. There isn't any
water; that's the worst of it."

"No water!" cried Ramona.

"No running water. There is one little spring, and they dug a well by it
as soon as they got there; so there was water to drink, but that is all.
I saw Carmena could hardly keep up, and I carried the baby for her on
one arm, while I led my father with the other hand; but the baby cried,
so she took it back. I thought then it wouldn't live the day out; but
it did live till the morning of the day my father died. Just a few hours
before he died, Carmena came along with the baby rolled up in her shawl,
and sat down by me on the ground, and did not speak. When I said, 'How
is the little one?' she opened her shawl and showed it to me, dead.
'Good, Carmena!' said I. 'It is good! My father is dying too. We will
bury them together.' So she sat by me all that morning, and at night
she helped me dig the graves. I wanted to put the baby on my father's
breast; but she said, no, it must have a little grave. So she dug it
herself; and we put them in; and she never spoke, except that once. She
was sitting there by the grave when I came away. I made a cross of two
little trees with the boughs chopped off, and set it up by the graves.
So that is the way our new graveyard was begun,--my father and the
little baby; it is the very young and the very old that have the blessed
fortune to die. I cannot die, it seems!"

"Where did they bury Jose?" gasped Ramona.

"In Temecula," said Alessandro. "Mr. Rothsaker made two of his men dig
a grave in our old graveyard for Jose. But I think Carmena will go at
night and bring his body away. I would! But, my Senorita, it is very
dark, I can hardly see your beloved eyes. I think you must not stay
longer. Can I go as far as the brook with you, safely, without being
seen? The saints bless you, beloved, for coming. I could not have lived,
I think, without one more sight of your face;" and, springing to his
feet, Alessandro stood waiting for Ramona to move. She remained
still. She was in a sore strait. Her heart held but one impulse, one