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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Crusade of the Excelsior"


A gradual and gentle ascent at the end of two hours brought the
cavalcade to a halt upon a rugged upland with semi-tropical shrubbery,
and here and there larger trees from the tierra templada in the
evergreens or madrono. A few low huts and corrals, and a rambling
hacienda, were scattered along the crest, and in the midst arose a
little votive chapel, flanked by pear-trees. Near the roadside were the
crumbling edges of some long-forgotten excavation. Crosby gazed at it
curiously. Touching the arm of the officer, he pointed to it.
"Una mina de plata," said the officer sententiously.
"A mine of some kind--silver, I bet!" said Crosby, turning to the
others. "Is it good--bueno--you know?" he continued to the officer, with
vague gesticulations.
"En tiempos pasados," returned the officer gravely.
"I wonder what that means?" said Winslow.
But before Crosby could question further, the subaltern signaled to them
to dismount. They did so, and their horses were led away to a little
declivity, whence came the sound of running water. Left to themselves,
the Americans looked around them. The cavalcade seemed to have halted
near the edge of a precipitous ridge, the evident termination of
the road.


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