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CHILDREN OF THE SOUTH 7

He does so like a coyote crawling through the brush
and he sees Juanita and Manuel Maretta with the Wolf
dog at their feet.
His eyes are like the windows of hell, but he dare not
attack. He dare not. He dare not shoot. He dare not.
He might miss. He might only wound, and then-
those crashing fists again.
The courage had been hand-beaten out of him. He
who had ,always been unafraid. He crawled back
through the brush again like a coyote. Another council
was held and hellish plans were made.
All unmindful of these happenings Juanita and
Manuel daily held their meetings. Manuel had matches
and salt and over a roasting partridge there became a
new world for Juanita, and she learned to know
"WHITHER THOU GO EST, I GO".
Nor could this poor outcast child be blamed, for
Manuel was good to look upon and when he spoke there
was magic in his voice and words. When Juanita told
him of her distant relatives in America it opened up a
veritable eulogy of that country by Manuel.
He told her of the wonders of America, its progress,
its advancement in all things pertaining to civilization.
No greater picture of our country has ever been
painted by word or pen than that spoken by this Out-
law on the side hill of an old box canyon midst the
mountains of Chihauhua.
"America stands for Liberty with its hundred million
of people and no drones," he said. "Its inventions, its
telegraph, its telephone, its discovery of steam, its
discovery of electricity, its airships, and with it all, its
charity to all mankind, and its evident desire to live
in PEACE, HARMONY, and JUSTICE."
And then he would tell her how he loved his own
country, poor, torn, bleeding Mexico. Torn by Strife
by those who seek their own gain. Those who by birth,
education and environment know better, but who are
actuated by selfish motives.