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

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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

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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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1-l- --Y ---- - She turned abruptly and fled to the pool. Snatching from her hnger a ring, she flung it into the water. .Immediately darkness ensued. Deep rumblings filled the room, and the mountain was shaken from its very base. Then all was ominously still. From the direction of the pool a luminous, green vapor seemed to rise. Gradually it spread over the whole room, giving a lurid glow to everything. In the dim light Dolores could see La Malinche beside the pool, swaying back and forth on her knees and muttering strange words. Then she began to plead. HO Great Green Frog, hear thy servant! For many years she has served thee. Now in dire distress is she, save her! Destroy these daring young mortals Who came with their cross for her downfall, And save her, master, O master! Thy favorite one, save her, G save her! Her voice ended in a wail. She waited, bowed over, and gazing into the pool as if to see her master's answer in it. For many minutes she watched. Then, thinking she saw a shadow, she leaned over farther. It was a shadow,-but it was the shadow of the Gross. With a terrible cry she started upward. The green light had faded from the room. The Green Frog, most powerful of the spirits she served, had failed her! There was Dolores, unharmed, holding up the Holy Gross, and looking straight into her eyes, and Juan, standing slightly behind her, still chained to the wall but in his normal mind, and fearless. No longer did she have power over him. Her spell had been broken by Dolores' great love. She herself could no longer stand against it. She was conf quered, powerless. She, La Malinche, the great enchantress, whose name made thousands blanch, was powerless before two young mortals. She could not endure it! She would not! Snatching up the dagger with which she had threatened Juan, she plunged it to the hilt into her own bosom. She reeled and fell. With her last breath, the chains fell from -luan's hands, the room vanished, and the two were standing outside the mountain. And to this day Juan has seared places on both hands where the chains held him. G Fifteen