The humbled
Mexicans sink into the condition of wandering helots. The only
possession left is their unconquerable pride, and the sadness
which wraps them in a gloomy mantle.
CHAPTER IX.
THE STRANGER'S FOOT AT LAGUNITAS. VALOIS' SPANISH BRIDE.
Through the mines runs a paean of rejoicing. The roads are free;
Joaquin is slain at last. Butcher bravos tire of revenging past
deeds of blood. They slay the helpless Indians, or assassinate the
frightened native Californians. This rude revenge element, stirred
up by Harry Love's exploit, reaches from Klamath to the Colorado.
Yet the unsettled interior is destined to keep up the sporadic
banditti of the valleys for years. Every glen offers an easy ambush.
In the far future only, the telegraph and railway will finally cut
up the great State into localized areas of civilization.
All the whiskey-drinking and revolver-carrying bravos must be swept
into obscure graves before crime can cease. It becomes, however,
occasional only. While bloody hands are ready, the plotting brain
of Joaquin Murieta never is equalled by any future bandit.
Coming years bring Francisco Garcia, Sebastian Flores, and the "Los
Manilas" gang, whose seventeen years of bloodshed end finally at
the gallows of Los Angeles.
Pages:
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214