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The Girl of the Golden West By: David Belasco (1853-1931) |
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THE GIRL OF THE GOLDEN WEST by DAVID BELASCO 1911 "In those strange days, people coming from God knows where,
joined forces in that far Western land, and, according to the
rude custom of the camp, their very names were soon lost and
unrecorded, and here they struggled, laughed, gambled, cursed,
killed, loved and worked out their strange destinies in a
manner incredible to us of to day. Of one thing only are we
sure they lived!" Early History of California
I.
It was when coming back to the mines, after a trip to Monterey, that the
Girl first met him. It happened, too, just at a time when her mind was
ripe to receive a lasting impression. But of all this the boys of Cloudy
Mountain Camp heard not a word, needless to say, until long afterwards. Lolling back on the rear seat of the stage, her eyes half closed, the
sole passenger now, and with the seat in front piled high with boxes
and baskets containing rebozos , silken souvenirs, and other finery
purchased in the shops of the old town, the Girl was mentally reviewing
and dreaming of the delights of her week's visit there, a visit that
had been a revelation to one whose sole experience of the world had
until now been derived from life in a rough mining camp. Before her
half closed eyes still shimmered a vista of strange, exotic scenes and
people, the thronging crowds of carnivals and fĂȘtes; the Mexican girls
swaying through the movements of the fandango to the music of guitars
and castanets; the great rodeo with its hundreds of vaqueros , which
was held at one of the ranchos just outside the town; and, lastly, and
most vividly of all, the never to be forgotten thrill of her first
bull fight. Still ringing in her ears was the piercing note of the bugle which
instantly silenced the expectant throng; the hoarse roar that greeted
the entrance of the bull, and the thunder of his hoofs when he made his
first mad charge. She saw again, with marvellous fidelity, the whole
colour scheme just before the death of the big, brave beast: the huge
arena in its unrivalled setting of mountain, sea and sky; the eager
multitude, tense with expectancy; the silver mounted bridles and
trappings of the horses; the many hued capes of the capadors ; the
gaily dressed banderilleros , poising their beribboned barbs; the red
flag and long, slender, flashing sword of the cool and ever watchful
matador ; and, most prominent of all to her eyes, the brilliant,
gold laced packets of the gentlemen picadors , who, after the Mexican
fashion, so she had been told, deemed it in nowise beneath them to
enter the arena in person. And so it happened that now, as the stage swung round a corner, and a
horseman suddenly appeared at a point where two roads converged, and
was evidently spurring his horse with the intent of coming up with the
stage, it was only natural that, even before he was near enough to be
identified, the caballero should already have become a part of the
pageant of her mental picture. Up to the moment of the stranger's appearance, nothing had happened to
break the monotony of her long return journey towards Cloudy Mountain
Camp. Far back in the distance now lay the Mission where the passengers
of the stage had been hospitably entertained the night before; still
further back the red tiled roofs and whitewashed walls of the little
pueblo of San Jose, a veritable bower of roses; and remotest of all,
the crosses of San Carlos and the great pines, oaks and cypresses, which
bordered her dream memory of the white beach crescent formed by the
waves of Monterey Bay. The dawn of each day that swept her further from her week in wonderland
had ushered in the matchless spring weather of California, the
brilliant sunshine, the fleecy clouds, the gentle wind with just a
tang in it from the distant mountains; and as the stage rolled slowly
northward through beautiful valleys, bright with yellow poppies and
silver white lupines, every turn of the road varied her view of the
hills lying under an enchantment unlike that of any other land... Continue reading book >>
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Genres for this book |
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Fiction |
Literature |
Westerns |
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