"

The majestic bulwark of San Jacinto Mountain looms in the southern
horizon of the San Bernardino valley. It was in full sight from the door
of the little shanty in which Aunt Ri's carpet-loom stood. As she sat
there hour after hour, sometimes seven hours to the day, working the
heavy treadle, and slipping the shuttle back and forth, she gazed with
tender yearnings at the solemn, shining summit. When sunset colors smote
it, it glowed like fire; on cloudy days, it was lost in the clouds.

"'Pears like 'twas next door to heaven, up there, Jos," Aunt Ri would
say. "I can't tell yer the feelin' 't comes over me, to look up 't it,
ever sence I knowed she wuz there. 'T shines enuf to put yer eyes aout,
sometimes; I allow 'tain't so light's thet when you air into 't; 't
can't be; ther couldn't nobody stan' it, ef 't wuz. I allow 't must be
like bein' dead, Jos, don't yer think so, to be livin' thar? He sed ther
couldn't nobody git to 'em. Nobody ever seed the place but hisself. He
found it a huntin'. Thar's water thar, 'n' thet's abaout all thar is,
fur's I cud make aout; I allow we shan't never see her agin."

The horses and the wagon were indeed a godsend to Jos. It was the very
thing he had been longing for; the only sort of work he was as yet
strong enough to do, and there was plenty of it to be had in San
Bernardino. But the purchase of a wagon suitable for the purpose was at
present out of their power; the utmost Aunt Ri had hoped to accomplish
was to have, at the end of a year, a sufficient sum laid up to buy one.
They had tried in vain to exchange their heavy emigrant-wagon for one
suitable for light work. "'Pears like I'd die o' shame," said Aunt Ri,
"sometimes when I ketch myself er thinkin' what luck et's ben to Jos, er
gettin' thet Injun's hosses an' waggin. But ef Jos keeps on, airnin' ez
much ez he hez so fur, he's goin' ter pay the Injun part on 't, when he
cums. I allow ter Jos 'tain't no more'n fair. Why, them hosses, they'll
dew good tew days' work'n one. I never see sech hosses; 'n' they're jest
like kittens; they've ben drefful pets, I allow. I know she set all the
world, 'n' more tew, by thet nigh one. He wuz hern, ever sence she wuz a
child. Pore thing,--'pears like she hedn't hed no chance!"

Alessandro had put off, from day to day, the killing of the cow. It went
hard with him to slaughter the faithful creature, who knew him, and came
towards him at the first sound of his voice. He had pastured her,