Richmond High School - Shield Yearbook (Richmond, CA)

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RICHMOND RODEO him from his horse into the dust. Then with a quick flirt of his rope, he snapped it from the shoulders of Don Pedro, sprang from his horse, and helped him from the dust with profuse apologies concerning his intended accident. Mounting his horse and glancing angrily around, Don Pedro beheld grinning countenances on every side, but he could only throw a volley of curses at the disappearing horse- man, as he dusted his clothes. A rippling flow of girlish laugh- ter stung him to the heart, and suddenly looking up, he saw Felicia Fernandez. ‘‘Senor Caravantez is a clumsy fellow, is he not, Senor? I deeply sympathize with you,’’ said Felicia, with a knowing smile on her pretty face. That evening as Caravantez was coming home from the round up he met Felicia and her aunt. He was cordially greeted by Felicia, but the old aunt turned a hostile and haugh- ty eye upon him. Riding close by the aunt’s side, as he was introduced to her, he slipped out his sheeth knife and pricked her horse in the flank, which caused it to go galloping down the road, flopping the old aunt up and down like a sack of hay, while she screeched and hung to the saddle-horn like a leech. Thus Don Carlos was left alone with Felicia. Felicia laughingly said, ‘‘Senor, your wit is as ready as your lariat in behalf of the ladies.’’ “In behalf of a lady,’’ he corrected with the emphasis on a.’’ ‘‘Could you save a dance for me during our Independ- ence ball?’’ he asked abruptly. ‘‘Most certainly, Don Carlos,’’ said Felicia. Thanking her, he spurred his horse forward to stop the aunt’s palfrey, which was now not going faster than a jogging trot, although the screams of the old lady still cut the air. Reaching her, he grasped the aged skate by the bridle and brought it to a walk. The aunt began a flow of thanks to her “‘noble rescuer.’’ 6é

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RICHMOND RODEO of Caravantez that darted forth like the strike of a rattler and brought the onset of the bull to a sudden termination, rolling him in the dust at the feet of the terrified but uninjured young lady. Quickly tying the enraged bull, Don Carlos caught the fieeing horse of Felicia, and bringing it up, helped her to mount. “‘Senor, I am deeply indebted to you. You have saved me from a horrible death. How can I ever repay you?’’ ‘“‘No need to think of such a thing, Senorita. It was a mere nothing,’’ replied Caravantez, with a low bow and a sweep of his sombrero. A strange embarrassment arose between the two. Caravan- tez, usually with a calm and ready wit, stood now at a loss, nervously fingering his hat. ‘“‘Tell me your name, please.’’ “Carlos Caravantez.’’ ‘Then you are the new owner of the ranch that joins my father’s,’ said Felicia, with feigned surprise. ‘‘I have the honor of being so near to you.’’ ‘But, Senor, I wish that I could repay such—”’ “Senorita Fernandez, allow me to assist you to a place of safety,’’ interrupted the evil-eyed Don Pedro, who had come up in time to hear the latter part of their conversation. He was inwardly cursing his luck, because he had not been quick enough to act in behalf of this young beauty. At this interruption Carlos bowed, muttered an adieu, and departed. As the afternoon wore on the vaqueros, every one of them having exhausted several horses, became dust-begrimed, hot and tired. Once in a while a lariat would fall short of its mark, the thrower too exhausted to control his rope. Don Pedro no- ticed a peon let a steer of his escape, whereupon he angrily struck at him with his quirt. Caravantez riding by noticed this outrage committed upon the tired vaquero, and launching his lariat through the air in pretense of catching a straying steer, he deftly caught Don Pedro around the shoulders, dragging 11

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iy H i Mi Sin RICHMOND RODEO ‘‘T have to get another horse, Felicia. This one is far too spirited,’’ said the aunt. x x It was the week of the great festivities at San Pablo, held yearly in honor of Mexico’s independence from Spain. Elab- orate preparations had been made. There would be no principal event during the week, unless it was the speeches of General Castro and other men of note, or the grand dance at the finish. Beside these there would be pull fighting, barbecues, horse races, gambling, drinking, dancing and murder. Rich and poor, peons and blue bloods, came from San Fran- cisco, San Jose, Monterey, and every other town within two or three hundred miles. They came to test the swiftness of their horses, their capacity as wine barrels, and the length of time their money would stay in their pockets at the gambling table. There were senoras and senoritas dressed in their flow- ing silks of many hues, and the young and the old gallants in their wide-brimmed sombreros, their flaring colzonazos, and their high heeled boots. On the evening of the grand dance, Caravantez, dressed in his flashiest attire, rode to the dance, and upon entering came face to face with Don Pedro, who sneeringly said, ‘‘Ho, gaudy peon; there are no servants allowed at this dance.’’ ‘‘You had better leave before anyone sees you, then,’’ said Caravantez in a modulated voice, as he brushed by the Don. Don Pedro had enjoyed the first dance with Senorita Fer- nandez. Then as the music began again he watched her glide away with another. She and her partner stopped at the end of the hall where Caravantez was lounging and chatted a mo- ment with him. Don Pedro’s suit had not been prospering of late. Muttering a curse and drawing fiercely at his cigarette, he strolled to the end of the room where Caravantez stood. 13