A Napa Christchild; and Benicias Letters | Page 5

their broad tails, with two white feathers, balancing and chirping cheerily.
A little valley through which an arroyo flowed, scantily bordered by low growing willows, formed the scene; on one side was a stubble-field with many cattle grazing on the new grass; there were a few dark oaks and 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, Se?orita, 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 strange little fellow and will not, or else cannot speak, yet he sings beautifully in his own odd way as you hear him now. I called him Christchild as I knew no better name. Are you not the Se?orita of El Tulucay? I know that horse which you have and have often seen him with a lady on his back flying over all the fields about here."
"Yes, I am Jovita of the Tulucay, and I know you now; you are called Crescimir the Illyrian, and I have been often to your cabin and sat beneath the great laurel while you were in the fields or at your work. I have often left flowers there at your door just for the pleasure of imagining the surprise when you should find them, and I always took the vegetables I found there, for I knew that they were for me. However, I never saw your face before this morning. You see I am little like our Californians, but my mother is from the States and believes in more freedom; she could not be better or kinder though she were a real Californian. If you are able we had better go up to the hacienda now, and after breakfast we will look about to see if assistance is needed along the river, for the flood was sudden and unlooked for."
Crescimir was not hurt and was able to walk slowly to the house. Jovita walked by his side, leading her horse, while the Christchild sat quietly in the saddle, nodding his head and winking like any sleepy child of this mortal world.
Both Crescimir and Jovita were silent during the walk, but their eyes often met, and Jovita would blush as she thought of her strange freak with the flowers and finding that the receiver was by no means the old man she had imagined him