since
the baby died, in a canon about three miles northeast of the village,--a
lovely green canon with oak-trees and a running brook. It was here that
he had thought of building his house if they had stayed in Saboba. But
Alessandro laughed bitterly to himself now, as he recalled that dream.
Already the news had come to Saboba that a company had been formed for
the settling up of the San Jacinto valley; the Ravallo brothers had sold
to this company a large grant of land. The white ranchmen in the valley
were all fencing in their lands; no more free running of stock. The
Saboba people were too poor to build miles of fencing; they must soon
give up keeping stock; and the next thing would be that they would be
driven out, like the people of Temecula. It was none too soon that he
had persuaded Majella to flee to the mountain. There, at least, they
could live and die in peace,--a poverty-stricken life, and the loneliest
of deaths; but they would have each other. It was well the baby had
died; she was saved all this misery. By the time she had grown to be
a woman, if she had lived, there would be no place in all the country
where an Indian could find refuge. Brooding over such thoughts as
these, Alessandro went up into the canon one morning. It must be done.
Everything was ready for their move; it would take many days to carry
even their few possessions up the steep mountain trail to their new
home; the pony which had replaced Benito and Baba could not carry a
heavy load. While this was being done, Ramona would dry the beef which
would be their supply of meat for many months. Then they would go.

At noon he came down with the first load of the meat, and Ramona began
cutting it into long strips, as is the Mexican fashion of drying.
Alessandro returned for the remainder. Early in the afternoon, as Ramona
went to and fro about her work, she saw a group of horsemen riding from
house to house, in the upper part of the village; women came running out
excitedly from each house as the horsemen left it; finally one of them
darted swiftly up the hill to Ramona. "Hide it! hide it!" she cried,
breathless; "hide the meat! It is Merrill's men, from the end of the
valley. They have lost a steer, and they say we stole it. They found the
place, with blood on it, where it was killed; and they say we did it.
Oh, hide the meat! They took all that Fernando had; and it was his own,
that he bought; he did not know anything about their steer!"

"I