e wall, a great chest for clothes, blankets
and simple treasures, the bright fire in the cozy fireplace--all
combined to give an indescribable air of cheerfulness, of homely comfort
and of rest. This quiet corner, where people still lived as simply as
when Abraham went up from Ur of the Chaldees, in the spring-time of the
world, held, for seeing eyes, an incommunicable charm.

When Jeff came at last to Casa Escobar, the cattle were already on the
hills, the pigs and chickens far afield. Don Francisco, white-haired,
erect, welcomed him eagerly, indeed, but with stately courtesy.

"Is it thou indeed, my son? Now, my old eyes are gladdened this day.
Enter, then, _amigo mio_, thrice-welcome--the house is thine in very
truth. Nay, the young men shall care for thy horse."

He raised his voice. Three tall sons, Abran, Zenobio, Donociano, came at
the summons, gave Bransford grave greeting, and stood to await their
father's commands. Fathers of families themselves, they presumed not to
sit unbidden, to join in the conversation, or to loiter.

Breakfast was served presently, in high state, on the table reserved for
honored guests. Savory venison, chili, fish, eggs, _tortillas_, _etole_,
_enchiladas_, cream and steaming coffee--such was the fare. Don
Francisco sat gravely by to bear him company, while a silently hovering
damsel anticipated every need.

Thence, when his host could urge no more upon him, to the deep
shading cottonwoods. Wine was brought and the "makings" of XXXX
cigarettes--corn-husks, handcut; a great jar of tobacco; and a brazier
of mesquite embers. At a little distance women washed, wove or sewed;
the young men made buckskin, fashioned quirts, whips, ropes,
bridle-reins, tie-straps, hobbles, pack-sacks and _chaparejos_ of
raw-hide; made cinches of horse-hair; wrought ox-yokes, plow-beams and
other things needful for their simple husbandry.

Meanwhile, Don Francisco entertained his guest with grave and leisurely
recital of the year's annals. Mateo, son of Sebastian, had slain a great
bear in the Pass of All the Winds; Alicia, daughter of their eldest, was
wed with young Roman de la O, of Canada Nogales, to the much healing of
feud and ancient hatred; Diego, son of Eusebio, was proving a bold and
fearless rider of wild horses, with reason, as behooved his father's
son; he had carried away the _gallo_ at the _Fiesta de San Juan_, with
the fleet dun colt "creased" from the wild bunch at Quemado; the herds
had g