From the Castros' home, Juanita rides out toward the San Joaquin.
Great commotion enlivens the hacienda. Pack-trains are laden with
every requisite--tents, hammocks, attendants, waiting-women and
retainers are provided.
Winding out of the meadows of the Alameda, eastwardly over the
Coast Range defiles, the train advances. Even here "los ladrones"
(thieves of animals) are the forerunners of foreign robbers. Guards
watch the bride's slumbers.
Star-lit nights make the journey easy. It is the rainless summer
time; no sound save the congress of the coyotes, or the notes of
the mountain owl, disturbs the dreams of the campers.
Don Miguel, in happiest mood, canters beside his wife. The party
has its scouts far in advance. Resting places in fragrant woods,
with pure brooks and tender grass, mark the care of the outriders.
Over the Coast Range Juanita finds a land of delightful promise.
Far away the rich valley of the San Joaquin sweeps. Rolling hills
lie on either side, golden tinted with the ripening wild oats.
Messengers join the party with auspicious reports.
Down the San Joaquin plains the train winds. Here Senora Peralta
is in merry mood; hundreds of stately elk swing tossing antlers,
dashing away to the willows.
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