San Diego State University - Del Sudoeste Yearbook (San Diego, CA)

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WHITE AND GOLD 29 A road leading to the raneh-house 11p the hill was an offshoot from the highway. about a half mile away at the foot. and was shaded by tall eucalyptus trees. whose branches met over- head. T0 the left of this, a short distance down the dusty high- way. stood a small church. mellowed and crumbling. hut smiling in the sunshine, while around it was a small cemetery. dotted with crosses of various sizes and designs, marking the graves of 111211133 good Catholics for years past. Such. in general. was the appearance of Don Miranda's domain; everything was big and generous, and at the house was dispensed daily sueh hospitality as is now a romance of history. and in it his family. and around it his dependents lived to love, sing, and dance, and to absorb much of Gods sunlight Now, I might tell you many a story of this old ranehe. but this particular story eoneerns Juan and Sebastian, two tire-blooded young vaqueros of Don Miranda. It was from Sebastian himself. now a very old man, that I heard the story. and it is true, for Se- bastian saw it. and who ean doubt what he sees? It happened in this wise. one night without a moon. when Juan and Sebastian were returning late from a Eamlange some miles away. Both had been riding across the eountry at full gallop until they eame within the vieinity of the raneho. when they slackened their pave. l1re1the1l deep. and straight- ened in their saddles in mutual accord. half unconsciously. as men who are prepared for something. Now. the Spanish are a superstitious people. and Juan and Sahastian were no exceptions. for both were dreading the ordeal of passingr the cemetery so late. on a dark night. As they neared the ehureh both gave their ponies the rein. and. leaning well forward, broke, into a swift lope. such as only the Indian pony is eapable They passed the church and that part of the eemeter3 on the main road in safet3. with fast heating hearts 33l1en suddenl3 a white object in the road 11p the hill. attracted their attention as they turned the corner. by its loud wailing and singular movements. Juan would never have stopped. but Sebastian. thinking to himself that it was a child reined in his horse and reaching over his saddle. picked it up without dismounting, and placing it in front of him. and giving Juan a few hurried w01 ds they again pressed 1111. Juan casting uneasy u-lanees at his eonipanion. Suddenly Juan shrieked aloud: HPer Dies! what is that? Is it a babyTt Sebastian slackening. said yes, that it was a child. when sud- denly the Object rose in front of him and with terrible mocking: voiee shrieked at hime NPin a baby lsl'ni a hahy.H And as it spoke it lengthened slowly into a great height. its form was slende 1 and its white robes showed a skeleton beneath. Glowing eyes of tire lighted 11p its awful countenance. and its long claws drew out a glittering sword and fiashed it 011 high with horrible maledie- tions. It was an evil spirit. they could plainly see. and the horses were rearing and plunging panieastrieken, neither going forward or backward. Now. this all happened in a triee. although it Seemed eternity. and as the spirit With a shrill cry was about to bring

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28 WHITE AND GOLD Strange7 is it not, that. when all round about us, Earthis simplest plans breathe of promise fulfilled, Only humanitfs yearning ambitions Fail of attainment, and striving is stilled? Backed by an etTort that cannot be nothing; Lived by. fought for, while smiling days pass; There comes in the pzithi'ay some circumstance greater, Bringing a failure and heart-break at last. III. Come, star-lit night! serenity, And calm. and majesty is yours. Oblivion and peace you bring. And rest again sweet hope restores. Your silent beauty seems to say. HSleep, soul! and lay your cares avav. With hope, eternal yet, again mell rise to greet the coming dav. Jilili A Spanish Legend BY MARGUERITE ERZINGER In the old California days. before gold was discovered and the modern thirst for money had arisen, when the land V'as divided into the estates of the Padres. o'reat ranches. where mighty herds of cattle roamed at will, and tiny pueblos populated by light- hearted music and danee-loving people, dotted the land; when romance was the wine of life. and the old Spanish and Mexican dons were. by an unwritten law, feudal lords over their estates and people, there was in the southern portion of the fertile Joaquin valley, some fifty miles from a lively pueblo. since be- come a large modern city, a typical Spanish ranch known as ttEl Ranchn de Ins Fluresii tthe ranch 0f the flowersi. owned by one Don Valentine Mi 'anda. a worthy and honorable Spaniard. in whose veins tiowed some of the proudest blood of old Castile. 0n the crest of a gently sloping hill stood the ranch house, a rambling adobe structure, veritahly sleeping amidst the rose- vines and jasmine in the heat. of inid-day. surrounded near at hand by great oak and pepper trees and various species of palm, with wild California poppies tlannting their bright faces to the sun in between everywhere. T0 the east. the horizon was filled with hills which sloped to meet the sky, shadowed by purple mists peculiar alone to the mountains of California and Italy. Meeting the hills were vast grain fields and grazing grounds, in which thousands of sleek cattle and horses roamed at will, A small stream running in a deep gulch or canyon hack of the house watered the ranch, and marked its devious course with tender, green willow trees, while near at hand were small orchards and vineyards, a wine-press, and luxuriant berry vines.

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30 WHITE AND GOLD down its sword 0n Sebastian, Juan. leaning over on his horse. with terrible strength hurled it off into the road, and both, without glancing backward. sped on at top speed. never stopping until they reached the corral. And that is why to this day the road past the cemetery to ttEl Baneho de las Floresll is never used at night. for this story which Sebastian told me is true, and who would care to risk his life? flilf A N ormal Consummation BY CAROLINE KETTLE 'tAdieuVl the voice was a curved line, the ideal teaeherls tone; The maidenis poise was perfect, out curved was her hreast-hone; She was leaving her loved Normal, but she did not even groan. The world was all before her; the ocean was there, too; Naught was there in the both of them but what the maiden knew; She was tteffieientii and she had a character or two. Adieulll she said. and started. but found she could not go; She was grounded in the System; greater honor who can know; In a training school they put her. to grind other teachers so. Years roll on, life laughs, love blesses; still she stands there poised, wise. Keeper of the goal of childhood; and She neither lives nor dies, For she is so very Normal she can neither sink nor rise. JifT Moonlight on the Desert BY RUTH WILCOX tA Paragraphl It is twilight. The desert lies, miles on miles of lifeless grey sand. stretch- ing far to north and south, and surrounded on all sides by high mountains. Snow-eapped peaks, piercing. like shining steel dag- gers, the dull sky, form the only light in the bleakness ot' the picture. A death-like silence hangs over all. A few cottonwood trees standing beside the faintest 0f crawling streams. droop their branches--waiting. The tree yucca alone, stands out in black. grotesque outlines against, the greyness 0f the baek-ground. Suddenly a sigh of awakening stirs the desert. Faint, luminous. ShadOWS steal over the tops of the mountains and slowly creep along the sands. The light grows stronger and stronger, seeming to blend and soften everything as it advances. The vast land- scape responds to an unseen power. The tense breath of expect- ancy is broken and a murmur rises on the air. Then in the sky, far to the east, appears a vivid rim of silver fireeand, slowly. in cold, majestic splendor, the great, moon. Queen of the Desert, arises.