customary wailing proper to the solemn service of burial; but, above
all, the want of belief in the dead woman's prophecy. That gave the
poignant touch to their sorrow. Sadly and silently, as they had buried
the dead, they returned to their hut in the gathering shades of night.

The next morning, these two bereaved ones, packing up their few simple
belongings, stole sorrowfully away from their home. They knew not what
was before them, scarcely anything of the country whither they were
bound; but such was their faith in the dead woman's word, that they did
not falter in their resolution to fulfill her admonition.

The hut, and all belonging to it, is long passed away; and the spring,
also, has disappeared, drying up till merely a stony furrow in the
ground shows where it once had its course. Only the lonely grave on the
hillside remains to mark the ancient Indian habitation here, and that,
today, is almost obliterated. As for the village beyond in the ca–on,
that, too, is no more; hardly a vestige can now be found to tell us that
here, long ago, was a thriving Indian settlement. All is silent and
deserted. Truly, as the aged Indian prophetess foretold, has the
aborigine vanished from the land.



The Flight of Padre Peyri



One of the few settlements of the old mission Indians remaining in
California is Pala, a little village tucked away amidst some of the most
charming scenery to be found in the southern part of the state. It is