GOOD-BYE LITTLE TIROL.
The gypsy children returned toward the camp just as the sun was setting.
"Aren't you 'fraid that Spico'll strike us?" the goblin-like boy asked,
holding close to Nan as the small, mottled pony galloped along the coast
road.
"No; I'm not scared," Nan said. "If he strikes us, we'll run away for
good."
"Could we go back and live in that garden?"
"I don't know where we'd go. Somewheres! Maybe up there." Nan pointed and
the boy glanced at the encircling mountains where the canyons were
darkening. Surely they would be well hidden there. They were close enough
now to see the smoke curling up from the camp fire near the clump of live
oaks.
Leaving the small horse in the rope corral with the others, the children
approached the wagons, keeping hidden behind bushes as best they could.
Nan wanted to see who was about the fire before she made her presence
known. The one whom she dreaded was not there and so she boldly walked
into the circle of the light, leading Tirol. Then she spoke the gypsies'
word of greeting: "Sarishan, Manna Lou."
"Leicheen Nan, dearie, how troubled my heart has been about you," the
gypsy woman said. "You ran away. I thought forever."
"Where is Anselo Spico?" the girl inquired.
"He hasn't come yet. Mizella's been asking this hour back. He said at
high sun he'd be here sure, more than likely he's been--"
"Hark!" Nan whispered, putting a protecting arm about the boy. "Hide,
quick, Tirol, here he comes."
But only one horseman appeared, galloping through the dusk, and that one
was Vestor, who had ridden away with the Romany rye that morning. His
dark face told them nothing and yet they knew that he had much to tell.
They gathered about him, but before he could speak, the old queen pushed
her way to the front. "Where's my son?" she demanded.
"In jail for tryin' to steal a rich gorigo's horse." Then Vestor added
mysteriously. "But he'll join us afore dawn, I'm tellin' you! Break camp
at once," he commanded. "We're to wait for Spico in a mountain canyon on
t'other side of town. I know where 'tis. I'll ride the leader."
The supper was hastily eaten, the fire beaten out, the mules and horses
watered and hitched. Just as the moon rose over the sea, the gypsy
caravan began moving slowly down the coast highway.
Nan, riding on her mottled pony, sincerely wished that Anselo Spico would
not escape, but he always did, as she knew only too well.
Two hours later the caravan stopped on a lonely mountain road and drew to
one side. Half an hour later everyone was asleep, but in the middle of
the night Nan was awakened by a familiar voice.
Anselo Spico had returned.
Long before daybreak the gypsy caravan was once more under way. The
jolting of the wagon of Manna Lou roused the girl. She climbed from her
berth and looked in the one lower to see if all was well with little
Tirol. Two big black eyes gazed out at her and one of the claw-like hands
reached toward her. Nan took it lovingly.
"Little Tirol," she said, "you aren't feeling well." The goblin-like boy
shook his head as he replied: "A crooked back hurts, Sister Nan. It hurts
all the time."
"I know--I know dearie!" the girl said tenderly gathering the little
fellow close in her arms. "Wait, Nan will bring you some breakfast." But
the boy turned away and wearily closed his eyes.
The caravan had stopped long enough to make a fire and prepare the
morning coffee. Soon Manna Lou entered the wagon. "Go out, Nan darling,"
she said. "Don't fear Spico. He only thinks of getting across the border
in safety."
The girl beckoned to the gypsy woman and said in a low voice, "Little
Tirol's not so well. We'd ought to stop at the next town and fetch a
doctor."
"Poor little Tirol," the gypsy woman said kindly. "You'll be lonely, Nan,
to have him go, but if the gorigo is right, if there is a heaven, then
little Tirol'll be happier, for there's been no harm in him here. And
there can't be anyone so cruel as Anselo Spico's been."
Nan clenched her hands and frowned. Manna Lou continued. "Perhaps his own
mother Zitha will be there waiting, and she'll take care of him. Before
she died, she gave me little Tirol and begged me to keep watch over him
and I've done my best."
Impulsively Nan put her arms about the gypsy woman as she said, "Manna
Lou, how good, how kind you are! You've been just like a mother to little
Tirol and me, too. Some day you're going to tell me who my own mother
was, aren't you, Manna Lou?"
"Yes, leicheen Nan. When you're eighteen, then I'm going to tell you. I
promised faithful I wouldn't tell before that."
As the morning wore on, it was plain to the watchers that little Tirol
was very ill and when at noon the caravan stopped, Nan, leaping from the
wagon of Manna Lou confronted Anselo Spico as she said courageously:
"Little Tirol is like to die. We've got to stop at that town down there
into the valley and fetch a doctor."
"Got to?" sneered the dark handsome man, then he smiled wickedly. "Since
when is leicheen Nan the queen of this tribe that she gives commands?
What we've got to do is cross over the border into Mexico before the
gorigo police gets track of us."
He turned away and Nan with indignation and pity in her heart, went back
to the wagon. As she sat by the berth, holding Tirol's hot hand, she
determined that as soon as the village was reached she herself would ride
ahead and find a doctor.
Manna Lou had tried all of the herbs, but nothing of which the gypsies
knew could help the goblin-like boy or quiet his cruel pain.
It was mid-afternoon when Nan saw that the winding downward road was
leading into a valley town. It would take the slow moving caravan at
least an hour to reach the village, while Nan, on her pony, could gallop
there very quickly. Not far below was a dense grouping of live oak trees.
She would slip among them on Binnie and then, out of sight of the
caravan, she would gallop across the fields to the town. "Manna Lou," the
girl said softly that she need not awaken the sleeping Tirol, "I'm going
for a little ride."
"That's nice, dearie," the kind gypsy woman replied. "It will do you
good. The sunshine is warm and cheery."
It was a rough road and the caravan was moving slowly. Many of the
fox-like gypsy children were running alongside, and Nan joined them.
She wanted to be sure where Anselo Spico was riding. As she had hoped, he
was on the driver's seat of Queen Mizella's wagon which was always in the
lead.
Running back, she was about to mount her pony when she heard her name
called softly. Turning, she saw Manna Lou beckoning to her. Springing to
the home wagon, she went inside.
"What is it, Manna Lou?" she asked. "You look so strange."
"We thought little Tirol was asleep all this time, and so he _was_, but
it's the kind of sleep that you don't waken from. Maybe he's in the
gorigo heaven now with Zitha, his mother."
The girl felt awed. "Why, Manna Lou," she whispered, "little Tirol looks
happier than I ever saw him before. See how sweetly he's smiling."
"Yes, dearie, he is happier, for his poor, crooked back was always
hurting him, but he was a brave little fellow, cheerful and
uncomplaining."
The caravan stopped and Manna Lou went out to tell the others what had
happened. The gypsy girl, alone with the boy who had so loved her, knelt
by his side and kissing him tenderly, she said: "Little Tirol, darling,
Nan has staid here and put up with the cruelty of Angelo Spico, just to
be taking care of you, but now that you aren't needing Nan any more,
she's going far away. Good-bye, dearie."
* * * * * * * *
That night while the caravan was moving at a slow pace over the moonlit
road and all save the drivers were asleep, Nan, slipped out of Manna
Lou's wagon, leaped to the back of Binnie and galloped back by the way
they had come.