Polytechnic High School - Caerulea Yearbook (Long Beach, CA)

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of her mountain, and how the only human who had been able to withf stand her magic power, having escaped, had died stark, raving mad in the house of Pedro Alamos. And yet she, Dolores Manello, must face this terrible woman and not be afraid. She found her rosary, and kneeling, began to pray. At first the words stumbled and came slowly, but when she thought of Juan, her lover, Juan, who was to be her husband, Juan, dearer, to her than anyone else on earth, in the power of the terrible Malinche, her panic was quieted by a strong, calm courage, and she seemed to get strength from the words she uttered. When she finally arose from her knees, her eyes were clear, her head was high, and she walked with a firm gait. Keeping her rosary in her hand, she went up the slope of the mountain. She came to the cliff, towering darkly upward, and she hesitated,-but for a second only. The thought of Iuan spurred her onward and she began to climb. She did not pause, but with the easy, natural movements of a primitive woman went steadily upward. Her heart fluttered a bit as she neared the cave, but when she had pulled herself upon its edge her fear disappeared. The thought of Juan was uppermost in her mind. She must save him. Mother Mary, protect him, she prayed silently. Then she started down a dark, sloping passage. She kept close to the rough stone wall, feeling her way, for she could see nothing. The blackness was suffocating. A lurking terribleness seemed to prevade it. Dolores crept steadily onward, her love for Juan overcoming all personal fear, and giving her a courage which she had never known before. Down, down, down, the twisting passage went, always down. Startled bats flutttered by, brushing her with their wings. She did not notice them. The rough wall scratched her hands but she did not feel it. The great hope that she would find Juan led her on, and with every step she took her courage grew. Finally, far down the passage she saw a dim light. She advanced more cautiously, and turning a sudden corner, stood at the door of a great room. Its walls of stone were hung with rich silks and old tapestries picturf ing the sufferings of damned souls in hell. The soft light which suffused it seemed to come from a large, brilliant stone in the ceiling. The floor was covered with thick, heavy rugs. At one side of the room lay a pool Thirteen

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itself free of his tortured body, leaving him to the mercy of the Voice. My love, it sang, why dost thou tarry? I await thy coming with outstretched arms. I starve because of thy absence. Oh, come to me or I die! Juan rose from the ground as in a dream, his arms extended, his black eyes burning with a fierce love, and started toward the cave of the enchantress. Dolores ran to him,--clung to him, plead with him, tried vainly to hold him back from the fatal snare, but Juan, roughly seizing her by the wrists, threw her from him. She recovered herself, slightly dazed, and again ran to him. With a fierce blow he struck her down. Then he ran wildly, crazily, up the steep slope of the mountain, with frantic haste climbed the side of a small cliff and disappeared into a dark cave about threefquarters of the way up. Dolores, stunned, lay huddled on the ground. Her senses came back but slowly, vaguely. She was laboriously trying to piece together her scattered thoughts. Where was she? Her head throbbed dully. What had happened? The road, the mountain,-everything seemed familiar, but where had she seen it before? She raised her head and looked with apathetic eyes at the thick, white dust in the road. A giant cactus, sheer' ing nakedly toward the sky, caught her attention. Her eyes straggled to the bottom of it. There,-ah-there,-what was that lying in the road? With a queer, hazy smile upon her face, she crawled toward it. She picked it up.-It was Iuan's sombrero. Juan? Ah, yes. Everything came back to her with a rush. She had been walking with Juan, and then,-and -then-La Malinche! Involuntarily she covered her eyes, as if to shut out the terrible scene she had witnessed so short a time ago. Juan,-her Juan was in La Malinche's cave. The thought made her suddenly alert. Something must be done,-and she must do it! A shiver of fear passed over her. She must go to the cave and save him. No, no, she was afraid, she couldn't! She would go back to the village and ask the padre to help her. But Iuan would be dead by that time. No, there was nothing else to do. She must go to the cave herself and save Juan. A cold fear clutched her, and her heart sickened as she remembered some of the awful tales about La Malinche: how powerful and cruelly coldfblooded she was, how she gloated over her shrieking victims down in the depths Twelve

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of blackish water, and near it, reclining on a rich divan, was La Malinche, the powerful enchantress. She was beautiful, yes, but with a repulsive beauty. Her straight black hair was drawn back from the temples and coiled in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, and her eyes were cruel, cruel and fascinating. Her thin lips were curled in an evil leer. She was watching something in the corner with intense interest and wicked amusement. Dolores looked. There, chained to the stone wall was Juan, whiteffaced and trembling. Before him, its tongue darting in and out, was coiled a huge rattlefsnake. Dolores' blood boiled. She stood in the doorway, her curls thrown back, her red mouth set, her eyes flashing, and La Malinche looked up and saw her. For a second she was astonished, but she quickly recovered herself, and the look that she cast at Dolores would have paralyzed an ordinary mortal with fear. But Dolores' great, selffsacrificing love for Juan had raised her above the plane of ordinary mortals. She stood her ground, erect, and defied the terrible Malinche,-a thing of which she could not have dreamed an hour ago. La Malinche smiled evilly, amusedly, and yet inwardly she was annoyed. Enter, fair mortal, she invited with poisoned sweetness. Thou mayest afford me good entertainment later on. Dolores looked straight into her eyes. Woman, she said with terrible earnestness. I command thee to free Juan Villenteslw La Malinche laughed slightly, and sneeringly. Juan Villentes! Ah no, little one, he will be dead before I can free him, and it may be that you shall die too! She uttered a strange call, and the snake stopped menacing Juan, and glided over to her. She petted it affectionately, and rising languidly, walk' ed toward juan. Her eyes were fastened on his with an evil hatred, and as she advanced, she drew from her bosom a jeweled dagger. Dolores, seeing what she intended to do, darted across the room, and flinging herself in front of Juan, suddenly held up her crucifix before La Malinche. The enchantress shivered involuntarily and drew back. The Holy Cross! She felt herself becoming weak, her power was slipping from her. Fourteen