Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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The Augusta Seminary Annual. 19 Pabla. IN the heart of the City of Missions, San Antonio, stands the battle-scarred Alamo. Its grey stone walls are defaced by time, but to all lovers of the ancient it bears a wonderful charm, while to the Texan it stands a monument in memory of the brave men whose lives were lost in its defense. It was here that the defenders of Texas liberty saw, floating from the old cathedral, the red flag and then the black one that told them how little mercy they might expect from the cruel comiriander of the enemy. The sun was setting, bathing the Alamo in a lurid light that seemed more fully to remind men of the scenes of horror and bloodshed that had been enacted within its walls. Standing in the door of the building was the small figure of a girl who seemed to have reached that point of life where, with shaded eyes, the maid looks forward timidly into the dim future of her dawning womanhood. Drawn around her head and shoulders was a dark red shawl, which hung in careless, graceful folds to where two small sandaled feet peeped out, proclaiming her to be of the ple- bian class. Her hands were clasped over her head and her dark eyes gazed dreamily out upon the moving, changing throng of people. She did not seem to be heeding them, and, when she was addressed in broken Spanish by a young girl who had just entered, Pabla was startled, but, with a native grace, moved aside, making a queer little curtesy. The young girl had evidently taken her to be the person in charge of the place and wished to be guided through it. Hardly understanding her words, Pabla gazed at her wonderingly, and then, in a puzzled tone, asked, in very good English, but with the slightest foreign accent, what she could do for her. The girl explained, and, as Pabla led her into the queer old building, she listened with rapt attention to the story of its siege and fall. Twilight was fading into night when Bessie McLeod stepped out of the mission into the street. She had been so engrossed in listening to the many old legends woven around it and so in- terested in the little narrator that time had passed unheeded. She handed a small piece of silver to Pabla in payment for her services,

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18 The Augusta Seminary Annual. for the rescue. At four o ' clock tlie next morning two boats, with an officer and four sailors in each, left for the wreck, and by eleven o ' clock they had brought from the Savannah the passengers and crew, who had been hanging about her for thirty-six hours, without food and water, threatened with death, and from whose breasts all hope had departed. They were all welcomed on board and everything possible was done for them by our captain and crew. One of the most pitiful sights we ever beheld was that of one of the passengers who was rescued from the Savannah. He was an old white-haired man — a minister — and the excitement and ex- posure to which he had been subjected had deranged his mind so completely that he did not know his name. By twelve o ' clock we were again headed towards home, and though we sighted several more vessels with sails and other por- tions of the rigging gone, they were apparently not in need of help. At two o ' clock we reached Tybee Island, where we re- mained until the tide enabled us to enter the river. The Birmingham was expected in Savannah, and the moment it came in sight was greeted with a cheer that could be heard in the center of the city. Along the five miles of wharves people were crowded, and as we neared our wharf the cheers grew louder and longer, and were responded to by whistles, from the gong and cheers from all on board the Birmingham. Long before the ves- sel had been docked, fathers, brothers and friends were there, wait- ing eagerly to welcome us back. As soon as the gang-plank was swung up there was a rush for it, and the crowd had to be pulled back and held by force until we landed, and then such greetings as there were ! Kemper Peacock.

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20 The Augusta Seminary Annual. and was surprised to see the girl shake her head even while look- ing longingly at the coin. I cannot take it ! I not belong here. I am Pabla, who lives far away by the Rio, with her grand- mother, she explained. Seeing that she had made a mistake in thinking Pabla the keeper of the old place, Bessie still pressed the coin upon her, and, won from her natural northern coldness to something of southern impulsiveness by the wondrous dark eyes uplifted to hers, she drew forth one of her cards and, writing her address upon it and handing it to the girl, said, You must come and see me, Pabla. Bessie then hastened away, carrying with her the memory of a pair of wistful dark eyes and a soft, sweet smile. Pabla lingered at the door watching her move down the. street until she was lost in the changing throng ; then, with a shy, half -ashamed motion, she lifted the small piece of pasteboard to her lips. Never, she thought, had she met any one so kind. Darkness warned Pabla that night was fast approaching and she must hasten home. She left the Alamo, reluctantly at first, then moving more swiftly until she scarce seemed to touch the ground. The lights and bustle of the city were soon far behind her and she reached a small Mexican hut down on the river ' s bank. Outside, on the ground, a fire was burning brightly, and around it were grouped the figures of several men who were con- versing in low tones. As Pabla saw them she muttered to her- self, That Juan has come home again, and she tried to slip un- seen into the house, but a voice warned her that the attempt was useless. Pabla! Pabla! the voice called, and reluctantly she moved forward to where, waiting for the coffee to boil, were three swarthy, dark-eyed men. Sitting in a low ])ine chair, close up against the wall of tlie hut, was a queer, witliered old woman, whose face was one mass of wrinkles, out of which gleamed a pair of deep-set eyes that seemed to move about as if never at rest. The old woman looked eagei ' ly at Pabla, who hastened to her side. The men seemed glad to see her, and ajjpeared to care greatly for hei ' , but Pabla answered none of their questions, and, sli] ping down beside the quiet figure of the old woman, put into her haiul the coin Bessie had given her. The longing look she had cast upon it before was now explained, for the old woman seemed overjoyed and no less happy than Pabla herself. What avenues of luxury that small coin opened to them I It seemed wealth untold.