But those confiding arms, that baby kiss
Upon his cheek, sent thro’ the aisles of his
Great, generous heart, a flood of newborn
Love. To part with her would be indeed to
Part with life itself. He, thinking quickly
And as quickly acting, fled--took the first
Ship that sailed, nor asking whither it was
Bound; rejoicing when it cleared the dock and
Seaward turned its prow. When learning that its
Course lay to the north, he changed to one bound
For the South Sea Isles.
Sailing to and fro,
The changing seasons passed while they upon
The ocean cruised like wanderers without
A guide; he thinking only of his charge,
And where he, in her tender years, the
Best could care for her. Willing hands he found--
Mothers’ hands outstretched to take the cherub
From his arms. She, growing, Cedric saw in
Her the image of her mother--the same
Blue eyes and wavy hair which fell about
Her shoulders; high arching brows and lashes
Long but darker shaded, like his own. He
Had thought to call her Lola; but when the
Stranger asked her name, she lisping answered,
“Zola,” he left it so.
Tho’ long before
The day when ox-carts plowed their dusty way
Across the plains to reach the sun land slopes,
The Eldorado of the west, he knew
Of that fair land beside the sunset sea--
That sunny, southern California.
There they would go, where none would ever hear
The story of the stolen, nameless child;
And where the recreant father ne’er would
Come. There would he seek and find in sylvan
Quietude, the sweetest spot where Mother
Nature reigns and in her lap, among the
Birds and flowers, would she be reared in spotless
Purity--educated--taught by him--
As wise men of the olden times received
Their learning from the doctors of the law.
Thitherward they sailed; and thro’ the rocky
Gateways of the cape--tho’ roughly shaken--
Safely passed; then to the north thro’ calmer
Waters, borne by Etesian winds, oft-times
Delayed by traffic at the ports, or on
A glassy sea becalmed. And once their ship
Was overtaken by an ugly craft
That bore the pirates’ flag; and every man
On board was called to arms; then they were
Well nigh overwhelmed and taken. Cedric,
Joining with the crew, fought valiantly. Thro’
The thickest of the battle, Zola clung
To him. When they would have taken her below,
She cried, “Let me stay wiz papa; if he
Go, zen me go too.” Cedric answered, “Be
It so; we live or die together.” But
Their fears were turned to great rejoicing when
A shot crashed thro’ the pirate craft. They sailed
Away and left it sinking in the deep.
Cedric, by his bravery and coolness
In the time of danger, won respect and
Friendship of officers and crew. When they
Left him at the mission of the holy
Padres, on the bay of San Diego,
Loaded him with costly presents, forced them
On him, presents for himself and Zola.
The angelic child had won the hearts of all.
Cedric told the good Franciscan fathers
He was going northward overland, and
Joyously he set about preparing
For the journey, she ever at his side,
With childish prattle, asking, “What is zis?”
“What is zat?” and “What for?” He answering
Cheerfully and evermore explaining--
Teaching her.
In her sweet companionship
And the certainty of keeping her, he
Laid aside his sadness and became as
Light of heart and happy as herself. At
Last they were all ready to begin their
Wild and free nomadic life--a dozen
Gentle burros, packed with all that they might
Need for months to come; a tent with costly
Furs and rugs, and blankets of bright colors
Bo’t from the Indians, with toys and gaudy
Trinkets; a snow-white pony, showily
Equip’d with Spanish bit and bridle,
Upon its back a basket, sedan-like,
With crimson canopy, lined with softest
Silken draperies, for his “Gypsy queen.”
A princess of the Romany was ne’er
Provided with such luxuries as she.
In the early morning, long before the
Ringing of the mission bells, Zola and
Her strange retinue set forth; the pony,
With its precious burden, led by Cedric’s
Hand; then came the white milk goats with tinkling
Bells; to the sound, the meek-faced burros, trained
To follow, trailed patiently behind; and
Then a faithful shepherd dog to keep them
All in line. They moved by easy stages,
Stopping often in some shady dell to
Rest and let their burros feed upon the
Grassy slopes. Then would Zola gather flowers,
Or chase the yellow butterflies, with shouts
Of childish glee that echoed thro’ the glen;
To him a sweeter music than the chime
Of great cathedral bells or orchestra.