Old Mission Stories of California | Page 6

elders of the tribe; but the
young people won the day, and her husband had since made his home
with her at the hut. But his marriage with her, in a measure, cut him off
from the rest of the tribe; and gradually, as time went on, he had found

himself refused the company of his former associates in the hunt, and
was forced to make his livelihood, and that of the two women, without
the aid of numbers. Until his marriage, the two women had been
provided with food by the tribe, but one of the conditions of his
wedding the young woman was that all assistance in that line should
cease. Henceforward they were to live as though utterly alone. This
they had done, and a hard struggle it had been at times, when game was
scarce and hard to find. But, though suffering hunger and hardship,
they had stayed at the spring, dreading to leave their dwelling-place,
and seek other and better hunting-grounds, as is the custom of the
Indians when sore pressed for food.
At this particular moment, her husband was absent on one of his
hunting trips, which generally kept him away for several days. This
time, however, he had been from home longer than usual, and the
young wife was looking anxiously for his return, for there was nothing
to eat save the remnant of meal in the bottom of the basket, and to-day
her grandmother appeared to be worse. The old woman was dying
slowly of old age, aided by the peculiar hardship of her long life; she
had not left her bed for some time, and the young woman could see that
her aged grandparent was not long for this world. During her illness
(which, however, was more a gradual breaking down and dying of her
strength than actual illness; for her mind seemed to be as clear as ever)
she had given evidences of having something in her thought, some
instruction or advice she desired to impart to her children, but which, so
feeble was she, was beyond her strength to utter. Thus she had lain for
three days, motionless, but for the restless turning of the head, and the
burning, gleaming eyes seeming to take the place of her voice, and cry
out the message her lips refused to speak.
Suddenly the young woman gave a start, and a look of joy passed
swiftly across her face, for she saw her husband come around the brow
of the hill far below. She rose quickly and hastened to meet him. As she
neared him, she saw he was bearing on his back the carcass of a young
deer, under the weight of which he staggered up the hill toward her.
Running to him she cried:
"Itatli! Oh, you are come in time! You have been away so long! But I
see you have had good luck this time in your hunting. How tired and
thin you look! Have you been far?" and as she spoke, she took the deer

from him, and laid it upon her own strong shoulder.
"Mota, it is a long way I have been, and I am sorely tired. Let me rest
and have something to eat, and tonight I will tell you where I have been
and what I have seen. How is the grandmother?"
"She is dying, Itatli. She has grown worse every day, and now cannot
sit up, and she lies all day so still - all but her eyes. She tries to speak,
and I am sure she has something on her mind that she wants to tell us.
She will not live long."
Slowly they climbed the hill, with an occasional sentence now and then.
Arrived at the hut, the Indian entered, leaned his bow against the wall,
near the baskets, and stood regarding the inanimate figure, a sombre
expression stealing over his face as he gazed. The woman's eyes were
closed, and she seemed to be asleep, nothing but her short, quick
breathing showing she was still alive. For some minutes the man stood
thus, then turned and strode out of the hut, picking up his bow as he
passed it, and carrying it with him. Without a word to his wife, who
had begun to cook a piece of the deer meat, and was busily at work
over the out-door fire, he occupied himself with his bow and arrows,
testing the strength of the cord, made of the intestines of a wild-cat, and
examining closely the arrow-heads, tipped with poison, taken from the
rattlesnake; but all in an intermittent way, for every few moments he
raised his head and gazed long and steadily over the plain to the far
distant hills on the southern horizon.
At last his wife called to him