I did not stop to rest until I had reached a high point of the path where a sudden turn along the edge of a precipice threw open the whole view of the valley. It was yet early morning, and I watched the floating bits of mist drifting above the dark canons, canons so narrow that the sun never reached their beds. Through clumps of leafless oaks the noisy arroyo could be seen hidden here and there by the thick foliage of some glistening madrono, with its red branches, or by dark, lustrous laurels. Bunches of mistletoe upon the dry branches of the oaks smiled fresh and green from their stolen perches like little oases in a desert of gray. Sometimes an early bee flew by me with hungry humming, and the sharp call of the jay would rise from the depths to mingle with the steady sighing of the wind through the giant redwoods. I had taken my favourite little mare, who never needed the bridle, being guided by my voice or slightest motion, and as I sat with arms akimbo under my poncho I felt as I were free again from all the trouble of life and could not but halloa for very exuberance of joy. Presently there came an answer from the cliffs above, and looking up I beheld Ysidria, mounted on the black horse I had some months before given to Madre Moreno, to be used by her niece, who was not so strong as she had been, and unable to walk so much as formerly. "Wait, and I will come down," she called and disappeared among the shrubs. Ysidria was much changed, she had grown thin and nervous during the year; yet, failing as she did in body, her eyes seemed every day to become more beautiful, as if they absorbed all her life. With the growing brilliancy of her eyes, increased also their defective sight, and she was quite unable to read, yet her power of extended vision was wonderful. Lately, I had cherished the thought of having Ysidria go to Santa Clara, or even to Mexico, to be under the care of some experienced occulist, and the fear of her becoming blind, when it might be too late to have anything done, made me very anxious, and Pedirpozza, whom I might have called, had gone for a time to the Colorado country. The day before this, on which I met Ysidria in the mountains, I had spoken to Madre Moreno of the subject nearest my heart. I had spoken but a few words when she said: "Thou needst not go any further, Senor Carlos, I know thy thoughts and have read them for a long time. Thou hast no one to ask for Ysidria but herself and the old witch, who is her only relative. I give my consent." I was so delighted that I could only express myself by kissing the forehead of Madre Moreno. "Be careful my Senorito!" she cried starting back and then laughing, "be careful how thou kissest the love of el bueno Diablo, or he may be jealous and play thee a bad trick." I always hated the Madre when she laughed, and I hurried away. In about ten minutes Ysidria reached the path where I was waiting, it having been necessary for her to come by a circuitous trail.