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The Splendid Idle Forties Stories of Old California

The Splendid Idle Forties Stories of Old California

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 3302    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

d counsel and agreed to combine. Not a wreath of fog floated across the bay to dim the sparkling air. Every horse, every vaquero, was alert and physical

pper end of the field, with General Castro, Do?a Modeste Castro, and other prominent Montere?os, his i

oidery on their velvet serapes, crimson sashes about their slender waists, silver spurs and buckskin botas, stood tensely in their stirrups as the racers flew by, or, during the short intervals, pressed each other with eager wagers. There was little money in that time. T

as a gull rides a wave. The sun beat down, making dark cheeks pink and white cheeks darker, but those great eyes, strong with their own fires, never faltered. The old women in attendance grumbled vague remonstrances at all things, from the

ld," thought Pio Pico, shutting his teeth, as he looked about him.

icente de la Vega y Arillaga, of Los Angeles. Not that a stranger was matter for comment in Monterey, capital of California, but this stranger had

r golden horses, with the tails and manes of silver-how beautiful is the contrast with the vaqueros in their black and silver, their soft white linen! The shame! the shame!-if they are put to shame! Poor Guido! Will he lose this day, when

al Castro. He was followed hotly by several friends, sympathetic and indignant. As he rode, he tore off his serape and flung

se?or," he said, l

th rage, the politeness and dignity of his race routed by passion. "Why do y

ed his friends, surroun

a man, but of the North

capital from us! Los Ang

forn

do with horse-racing?"

rought their horses to

ot won. They have not

out De la Vega. Some felt with Caba?ares, others rejoiced in his

again?" dema

hink of putting your

ed, the indifference of the other s

blood," he said sulkil

n horses run neck to ne

the last race. My best

Ray

!" shouted th

ried one. "The North or the South! Los Angeles

heeling and galloping across the field to the do?

l is not here!" said Do

reen eyes of hers

the Governor. "She said s

?" asked De la Vega,

an in the Californias, since Chonita Iturbi y Moncada, my Vicente. It is at her uncle's

a Vega. "I have

El R

e ugly

tter. He looks as if he had been bred in hell. He will not stand the qui

s were fastened to bare brown heels; the cruel quirto was in the hand of each; they rode barebacked, winding their wiry legs in and out of a horse-hair rope encircling the body of the animal. As they slowly p

iamond-dust. He was long and graceful of body, thin of flank, slender of leg. With arched neck

sterns. There was neither amiability nor pride in his mien; rather a sullen sense of brute power, such as may have belonged to the knights of the Middle Ages. Now and again he curled his l

angely crossed and recrossed by long silver notes; a thrilling volume of sound ris

tarting-post neck and neck, nose to nose. José Abrigo, treasurer of Monterey, das

ht his way to the front, and the roar with which the crowd h

s nose was abreast of Vitriolo's flank. The vaqueros sat as if carved from sun-baked clay

racing hoofs. The horses swept onward like projectiles, the same smoothness, the same suggestion of eternal flight. The bodies were extended until the tense muscles rose under the

f the hoof-beats behind him that he had a good lead of at least two lengths over the No

by the sound, Vitriolo's rider darted a glance over his shoulder, and saw El Rayo bearing down upon him like a thunder-bolt, regaining the ground that he had lost, not by inches, but by feet. Two hundred paces from the finish he

neither whip nor spur, his teeth set, his eyes ro

ick their teeth, to mutter hoarsely, then to shout, to gesticulate, to sha

h is lost! Vitriolo the magnificent! Ah, who would have thoug

Vitriolo's neck. The big black responds like a creature of reason. Down comes the quirto once-only once. He

ba?ares made no further demonstration toward De la Vega. Not onl

l. Anger gave place to respect; moreover, De la Vega was the guest of General Castro, the best-beloved man in California. They were willing to exten

tered the town he broke from it and ascended

but pulsating with military life, and alert for American onslaught. In the valley the red-tiled white adobe houses studded a little city which was a series of corners radiating from a central irregular street. A few man

the broad street. "Bring her to us, Excellency. Tell her she shal

continued the ascent of the hill, toward a

ndows. The floor was bare, the furniture of horse-hair; saints and family portraits adorned the white walls; on a chair lay a guitar; it was a

town and hear the fortune of the races. Alvarado Street streams l

head-and she was La Favorita of Monterey, the proudest beauty in California! Her father had gambled away his last acre, his horse, his saddle, the serape off his back; then sent his motherless girl to his brother, and buried himself in Mexico. Don Antonio took the child to his heart, and sen

d Pio Pico. "Wrinkles w

apart, but the clouds

aid, 'I will wed no man who does not bring me a lapful of pearls,' and no one has filled the front of that pretty flowered gown. But have reason, ni?a. Remember that

se?

ou. But thou art worthy of the most that man could give. Had I not a wife mysel

dipped at the middle; the broad thick underlip hung down with its own weight. The nose was big and coarse, although there was a certain spirited suggestion in the cavernous nostrils. Intelligence and reflectiveness were also in his

rom her dark green eyes; the soft black lashes dropped quickly when they became too expressive. Her full mouth was deeply red, but only a faint pink lay in her white cheeks; the nose curved at bridge

hou might be an Esteneg

better suits old Spai

o about thy head now,

ct t

ill with the Governor, her flowered gown floating with a silken rustle

He has never been here, before. His horses! Madre de Dios! They ran like hares. Poor Guido! Válgame Dios! Even thou wouldst have been moved to pity. B

e were passionate and severe; his dark blue eyes were full of powe

ed Benicia Ortega. "He stays with him.

pened suddenly with a bold eager flash, his arched nostrils twi

dling in the heart

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