THE TOMALE MAN
The Chinaman with his one horse cart had just been making his daily
round. Nan had been watching Li Hung chaffering with his countryman
for some of the fresh fruits and vegetables, and now that the bargain
was closed and the cart had bobbed off down the street she had gone
to their own little orange grove and was standing contemplatively
regarding some white orange-blossoms above her head. She was still
dreaming of a husband for the señorita. "It would be so handy to get
orange blossoms for a bride," she told herself, "easier," she continued
with a little chuckle, "than to get a husband. It is a great pity
that Carter is so young and Mr. Pinckney is so old," she thought.
She looked down between the rows of trees to the mountains rising in
solemn dignity beyond. "I wonder how the people who used to live here
feel about it," she went on to herself. "I should have hated to give
it up. I shall feel sorry when we have to." Then her thoughts flew to
another garden in old Virginia, mountain girt, too, but now lying white
under winter snows and showing no sign of life except when a Molly
Cottontail leaped to cover leaving small footprints behind her. Place
o' Pines, her favorite haunt, seemed childish and small. All of her
previous life was dwarfed beside the larger experience of her present.
There was much to miss yet she missed nothing. California had cast
its spell upon her. To her youth's eagerness for the new it unfolded
a constantly expanding growth. Even the crowds in the streets seemed
larger each day than the day before. To her romantic love of the old
the ancient missions, the remains of the Spanish settlements appealed
strongly. They filled her with a delight such as the old countries
alone can afford the lover of poetry, history and art. She sighed
because the days were passing all too quickly, because but a little
time remained of their stay in Los Angeles. "We must move on like the
Indians," said Nan regretfully, "and I don't half like it."
In the midst of her reveries, she suddenly remembered that she had not
seen Jack for some time. She wondered where the child was. She had an
indistinct recollection of hearing Jack announce that she meant to
go find the tomale man. They had discovered him the last time they
had been down town with Carter, and they had enjoyed the hot Mexican
preparation so much that Jack declared she meant to go buy some
herself some day. Could she have chosen to-day for the expedition into
the town?
Nan made for the house. "Where is Jack?" she asked. No one knew. Mary
Lee had seen her talking to Li Hung. Jean had heard her say she was
going somewhere and did not want any company. She would not tell where
she was going. The señorita had seen her counting over her store of
nickels. Taking her clues from all this Nan started forth. "It would
never do to let her go down town by herself," she said. "She might get
lost, but don't worry mother about it; I'll find her."
"Suppose you telephone over to Mrs. Roberts," suggested Miss Helen;
"she may have gone there."
Nan called up, but no Jack had been there that morning. Garden, orchard
and the surrounding streets were searched and all finally arrived at
Nan's conclusion, so she started for the centre of the town where
they had come across the tomale man. There he was with his corn husk
packages neatly tied and filled with the delectable preparation so
dear to the hearts of the Mexican. There was no Jack in sight as
Nan came up. She wandered up and down trying to discover her sister
and suddenly found herself in the midst of a queer street where she
seemed to be transported to the other side of the globe. Here were
shops innumerable displaying such strange wares that Nan stood still
to wonder before she turned to flee. She was not timid, but to be
surrounded by plodding Chinamen stubbing along in their queer shoes
made her feel uncomfortable. One or two turned slanting eyes upon her
but most passed her unconcernedly. Before a shop gay with banners and
painted signs Nan paused, but in the masses of unknown objects which
she could see by peering inside there was nothing that she recognized,
and she went on passing all sorts of establishments, before which were
set forth such wares as platters of fish, bunches of herbs and tubs of
vegetables the like of which she had never seen before.
She would like to have penetrated further, to have stopped to look in
at the Chinamen eating with chop sticks, and the Chinese women with
such curiously arranged hair, but she scarcely dared, and satisfied
that Jack had not strayed this way she retraced her steps and was once
again out of China and in America. The tomale man still hawked his
wares and the crowds were still hurrying to and fro, an interesting
crowd, Nan thought, for so many nationalities were represented, but
among them was no little bright-eyed girl answering to the name of Jack
Corner.
"I might as well hunt for a needle in a hay-stack," thought Nan. "I'd
better go back home for probably she is there by this time. Some day I
shall get Carter or Mr. St. Nick to bring us to Chinatown where we can
nose around and see everything we want."
She was so busy thinking of what she had seen that she reached the
corner nearest home before she realized it, and was obliged to turn
back a little. In doing this she caught sight of two figures down the
street a little way; one was a small girl standing at bay before a
boy about her own age who danced and pranced and flourished his fists
shouting: "Ya! ya! ya! I've got you now."
Nan set out on a quick run. Surely this was Jack. She came up just in
time to see the boy tweak off Jack's hat and throw it on the ground,
but she also saw why he did not advance further, for whichever way he
turned the steely point of a long sharp hat pin confronted him. Jack
had chosen her own weapon and never had ventured from home without it
since the day of her battle with the boy. _The Boy_ she called him in
her own mind. She had felt that this hour might come some day, but it
never kept her within the limits of security. One might think that
it would have been a small thing for a little boy to worst a girl
of his own size, and so it might if fists were all that were to be
considered; hat pins put a different face upon the affair. So though
Jack was merely on the defensive, defend herself she could, and very
ably.
"Jack Corner," cried Nan, "what are you up to?"
Jack was off her guard for a second, but the boy seeing that
reinforcements had arrived, did not dare to make further attack. "Pick
up my hat, won't you, Nan?" said Jack coolly, "and won't you get the
tomales from behind me? I'm afraid I'll step on them. You'd better go
home, boy," she remarked with a mocking laugh.
"Yes, you'd better go," said Nan. "What do you mean by teasing my
little sister?"
"Ain't she done enough to make me tease her?" said the boy sullenly.
"Ain't she nearly beat the life out of me?"
"So you're the boy, are you?" Nan looked at him interestedly. "Well, I
can tell you that it won't be good for you to stay around here. There
are too many of us to look after this little girl. Our Chinaman keeps
a tub of scalding water ready for you if he catches you, and if you
try to run away Mr. Barnwell has his automobile always on hand, and if
that isn't enough I can easily call up a policeman. I won't answer for
what the Chinaman will do if he once gets hold of you. They can do
horrible things, you know. He may be on the lookout now." Nan peeped
over the hedge as if to discover the lurking Li Hung. Her threats and
suggestions of dark things had their effect, for the boy backed off,
keeping his eye on the hat pin which Jack still pointed at him, and
when at a safe distance he turned and fled.
"The next time, Jack," said Nan, "he'll not come alone, I can promise
you that. Now, young lady, why did you abscond this way without leave?
You know mother doesn't allow it."
"That's why I went," said Jack. "I was afraid she wouldn't let me go if
I asked her, and I wasn't disobeying if she didn't say I couldn't, was
I?"
"Well, in a way you weren't. Give an account of yourself. Where have
you been?"
"To get some tomales from the Chili wagon. I brought you one, Nan, and
one to the señorita."
"How do you know we'll like them?"
"Oh, you're sure to. If you don't care for yours you can give it to
Mary Lee; she'll eat it whether she likes it or not because it is
Spanish and because the señorita likes it. They have all sorts of
things in them, funny things, the man told me; chicken and olives, and
ever so many queer names I can't remember. He could speak English, and
he was very nice and polite."
"That may be, but you ought to have been at home playing quietly like a
nice well-behaved little girl. I went all the way down town to look for
you. I thought you might have gone off somewhere by yourself."
"What made you think so?"
"I heard you say you were going after tomales some day. I should think
you would have been scared, Jack, to wander off by yourself."
"I didn't wander; I went straight down to where we saw the Chili wagon.
I wasn't scared, because it is easy to ask the way, and the cars take
you right where you want to go. I don't see why people get so fussy
over a little thing like that when everybody goes back and forth on the
cars all day long. I must have come back just ahead of you, and it is a
wonder I didn't see you."
"Probably I was just behind you all the way along. I went all around
and I even got into Chinatown. It was tremendously interesting and I
should like to have prowled around there longer, but I had you on my
mind. We must get Carter or Mr. St. Nick to take us there some day.
You feel as if you were really in a foreign country. I saw lots of
beautiful things I wanted to buy, and lots of awful, queer-looking
eatables I wanted to get away from. I don't see how they can eat such
messes."
"Maybe they think that way about the things we eat."
"Probably they do, though I shouldn't think they would, for it is
because there are such swarms of them in their own country that they
can't get enough decent food and have to fall back on anything they can
get whether it is good or not."
"I'm glad I'm not a Chinaman," said Jack reflectively.
"So am I," said Nan. "Tell me, where did you meet that boy?"
"Right here where I got off the car. I believe he saw me go in town by
myself and waited around till I came back."
"I think it is very likely, and I shouldn't wonder if he tried again to
do something mean."
"I'm not afraid."
"I don't suppose you are, but there may be no Carter or Nan next time
and you may come off worse than you have these two times. You may thank
your stars that I came along when I did."
"Oh, I don't know," returned Jack nonchalantly; "I had my hat pin, you
know. I bought the longest, sharpest one I could find."
"Do you always carry it?"
"I do ever since that first day. I would have jabbed him good if he had
come too near."
"But he might have kept you there for hours."
"Oh, no, for I would have called the first person that came along and
would have made whoever it was send him off. I think next time I go
out of the garden I'll carry a bottle of ammonia, and if he comes I'll
throw it all over him."
"You might put his eyes out, and that would be horrible. No, don't do
any such desperate thing. Make up your mind to stay where you belong
and don't go off on these wild excursions by yourself."
"But I like to go. It's more fun to go by yourself, for then you can
stop and look in at all the shop windows you want to, and if you want
to ask questions of any one, there's nobody by to hurry you along and
say you mustn't."
"Oh, Jack, Jack," said Nan, "there's no doing anything with you. Come
along now and tell mother where you have been; you know that is what
you will have to do."
There was no use in trying to squirm out of this duty as Jack well
knew, so she went in and made her confession, received her lecture
placidly and took her punishment stolidly. She was to stay at home from
the next outing, wherever that might be. She was a nervous excitable
child under some circumstances, but the expected never ruffled her; it
was only the unexpected which did.
The expedition from which she was excluded was one which Jean was not
allowed to undertake, either, as Mrs. Corner decided that they were too
young for so hard a trip. Miss Helen, Mary Lee, and Nan were the only
ones who would go in company of Carter and a guide. The girls could
both sit a horse well and were fearless riders, so the journey to the
mountains was not an enterprise which they dreaded in the least. Their
own mountains might be less formidable but they were wild enough and
had been the scene of more than one hardy experience. The trip would be
extended to San Bernardino, although the mountain ride would begin from
some point along the route.
"I am just wild to get on one of those little burros," announced Mary
Lee.
Carter laughed. "Don't be too wild; you may regret it before your
journey is over," and sure enough his prophecy came true, for not long
after the mountain climb began around huge boulders, up the trail with
great trees towering above them, Mary Lee began to feel uneasy, and
to lose confidence in her mount. The leaping river, singing, surging,
roaring, a hundred toned stream, had to be forded many times, the
guide told them, and it was during one of these fordings that Mary Lee
realized that she was right in not trusting her burro.
"I believe he is going to lie down," she cried out.
Carter turned his head. "Oh, no, not the dear little burro that you
were so wild to ride."
"Stop teasing her," said Nan; "it is bad enough as it is."
"That was mean," Carter acknowledged; "I'll turn back and encourage
her." This he did, but Mary Lee would have none of him when she had
safely reached dry land, and dismissed him so curtly that he rode on
without a word.
When at last a precipitous trail lay before them Mary Lee had lost
all faith in the dear little burro, for he had displayed too many
peculiarities along the way, and she declared she would not go a step
further.
[Illustration: MARY LEE HAD LOST ALL FAITH IN THE BURRO.]
"But you must, Mary Lee," said Nan. "We aren't near the end yet. We all
want to go to the top."
"Well go," said Mary Lee. "I'll wait here."
"By yourself?"
"Why not?"
"Oh, you mustn't; it wouldn't be safe."
"Nothing will hurt me, will it, Mr. O'Neill?" She appealed to the
guide.
"Less'n you're skeered of Jack-rabbits and squirls and sich varmints,"
he replied.
"I'm not scared," maintained Mary Lee stoutly, "not in daylight."
"But you should not stay alone," warned her aunt. "I should not be
satisfied to have you."
"I'll have the burro with me," answered Mary Lee half smiling.
"Great company, indeed," scoffed Nan. "You might see a rattlesnake or a
tarantula."
"I might just the same if I were not by myself. I'd rather see them
than ride another mile up the mountain on that stubborn little beast.
I don't know what minute his heels might fly up and I be pitched
clean over his head, or suppose he should take a notion to sit down
on that fearsome trail, I'd die of fright. I'd as soon be bitten by a
rattlesnake as to be tossed to eternity down the side of a cañon. No,
sirree, I don't go up that mountain with Mars Burro. It will be as much
as I can do to make the journey home from here. You all travel as far
as you want to go and I'll wait for you. I'd much rather than not."
Miss Helen turned to the guide. "Do you think it is safe?"
"I don't see why not," he answered. "There ain't no creeturs likely to
come around in daylight, nothin' that ought to skeer her, and we
won't be gone more'n an hour or so."
"I'll change burros with you," said Carter, but to this Mary Lee would
not listen. She was determined to go no further and further she would
not go, so at last, after much parleying and the offer of one after
another to stay with her, all departed and she was left sitting on a
fallen log to feast her eyes upon the wonders of the forest. Here were
great white-trunked sycamores draped with mistletoe, glossy-leaved live
oaks, great alders and willows by the brawling stream and a flowery
wilderness of blossoms in the open, alfiliria, bluish pink; golden
poppies, lavender lilies, violets, tulips, a paradise for the wandering
bees.
It was when the voices of her friends came only faintly from afar and
she was watching the brown bees booming among the blossoms that Mary
Lee first detected the monotonous strokes of an axe cleaving some huge
tree. She was not the only human being in the wilderness then. At first
she decided not to venture from her place, but after half an hour had
passed she became a little lonely and the idea of human companionship
seemed rather pleasant to contemplate. The bees, in their busy
gathering of honey, droned so sleepily that they offered no excitement,
although at first it had been interesting to watch them. Mary Lee
loved all animals and would have tried to make friends with any who
might have appeared, but beyond the friskings of an agile squirrel once
in a while she had not seen any.
After some hesitation, as the steady chopping kept on, she arose from
her seat and cautiously made her way toward the spot from whence the
noise came. After a time she saw a man who was bringing his axe down
with mighty strokes and who was too intent upon his work to notice the
little figure so near till a voice by his side said: "That's a mighty
big tree you're cutting down."
"Great fathers!" cried the man dropping his axe and looking at the
little girl. "Where under the sun did you come from?"
"From just over yonder," replied Mary Lee. "The others have gone
further up the mountain, but I wanted to rest and so I am waiting for
them to come back. They will be here presently. I hoped I would see a
Douglas squirrel, but I didn't. Did you ever see a water ousel? I have
read about them and I would give anything to see one."
The man smiled. "Well, yes," he answered, "they're plenty around the
streams and as to Douglas squirrels they've been capering about here
all morning. They're about the liveliest creeturs ever I did see. You
keep still a minute and maybe you'll get to see one. Aha, I thought
so," for presently to Mary Lee's delight she saw the quick motions that
indicated a presence in a tree just beyond where she was standing.
"Most folks out here call him a Pine squirrel," said the man. "This
one's been a barkin' at me on and off all the morning. Hear him now:
Pee-ah! Pee-ah! that's him."
Mary Lee listened and presently the little creature came nearer and
nearer, this time angry at seeing a new intruder whose language he did
not know, and as he made a sudden dash at the two humans, Mary Lee
could see him distinctly.
"He is a lively one," the man remarked again. "Now, if you want to see
one of them water thrushes I guess we can find one if you don't mind a
rough little walk."
Mary Lee had no misgivings as she followed her guide and he, in return
for her confidence, entertained her to the best of his ability. "How
did you happen to know about these critturs?" he asked. "You ain't from
these mountain parts, I know."
"No," returned Mary Lee, "I am from the East, from Virginia, but my
aunt has been reading to us about the birds and beasts of California
and those two I have been very anxious to see. We have been looking for
them, and I am glad I shall have seen them first."
"Them squirrels is the out-beatingest critturs for not scaring," the
man told her, "and they cut up more didos. I've spent many an hour
watching 'em, and their tricks would make a horse laugh. As for your
water thrush, he's a good fellow, too. Don't mind how cold the water
is, nor how lonely the place, just give him a waterfall and he's happy.
He'll sing, too, winter or summer, just as pleasant as can be; you just
can't freeze him out."
"Have you always lived in the mountains?" asked Mary Lee as she
followed along the rough way.
"No, I ain't, though I come mighty near to being a mountaineer. I was
brought up on the coast and I figgered around this region up and down
since I was a boy. Sometimes it ain't been healthy for me to stay in
one place and I've lit out to another."
"Why, doesn't the climate of California agree with everybody?" asked
Mary Lee guilelessly.
The man laughed and shook his head. "Depends on what your complaint is.
Now my complaint always happened to be somebody else's complaint and
that's what made it bad for my health at times."
Mary Lee pondered some time upon this unintelligible speech, indeed
until the waterfall was reached where the glad presence of the water
ousel put all else out of her thoughts. There he was to be sure,
flitting, diving, whirling in the eddying pools, poising like a
humming-bird above the cascade, and singing, ever singing. Oh, the
joy of it! Mary Lee stood enraptured. Once she turned a beamingly
appreciative face upon the rough man at her side.
"Like him, do ye?" he said.
"I love him; I adore him," returned Mary Lee bending a little forward
to see the better. Only a small bluish-gray bird with a touch of brown
upon him, but he was the very spirit of the waterfall, a sprite--a
water-baby. "Do you suppose he will still be here when the others get
back?" asked Mary Lee. "I'd so love them to see him."
"He may be," returned the man, then in an undertone, "but I won't."
"I certainly am obliged to you for showing me the two things I wanted
most to see," said Mary Lee as they wended their way back to the
wood-chopper's tree. "I should think your children would be very glad
to have a father who could show them so many woodsy creatures. Have you
any little girls?"
The man was silent for a moment. "I don't know whether I have or not,"
he said presently.
"Oh!" Mary Lee looked surprised. "Why not?"
"Well, you see the way of it was this. It's twenty-odd year since I
married my wife. She was a Mexican girl, pretty as a picture. Her folks
didn't cotton to me and circumstances was against me so I lit out not
long after we was married, and next thing I hear my girl is dead, and
the message I got from her father didn't make it look wise for me to
go back and claim the baby. Besides, what would I do with a youngster,
living wild like I had to? She was better off, I figgered it out, than
she would be with her father, so I left her be, and though I ain't
forgot her, I don't ever mean she shall know she has a daddy. I ain't
nothin' to be proud of, missy, though once I was a right likely sort
of buck. Well, so long. I guess we must part here. I hear your folks
hollerin' to you. There's your road right straight ahead." And before
Mary Lee could say a word he plunged into the woods and was lost to
sight.