On the beach below, squatted within the opened flap of his tepee,
Torquam, mighty chief of the Mariposa, smoked his evening pipe. A
wonderful pipe it was, long and delicately fashioned, inlaid with
iridescent fragments of shell. Yet instantly he laid it aside as the
slender form of his daughter darkened the doorway.

"Ah, Wildenai, little wild rose, welcome art thou as sunshine after
rain!" His eyes lighted with the tenderness never seen there by any
other than this motherless girl. He stretched his hand to her and the
princess came silently and knelt before him.

"My father," she said firmly, though in so low a tone that Torquam bent
to hear. "Oh, father, thou art always wise! Thou only knowest best. I
come to thee to tell that I will wed Cabrillo. I will wed with him
whenever thou dost choose!"

Taking her face between his hands, Torquam gazed long and searchingly
into the sorrowful eyes of his daughter.

"And thou art wise to do so, my beloved one," he said at last. "He will
make to thee a good husband." In his voice was the keen understanding of
a father. "He will be kind to thee and heal thy wounded heart, my
daughter. Don Cabrillo is a good man," he repeated solemnly."



Miss Hastings Brings It to an End