Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           Alegendaroseabouthim,thisprowlerofthenight,thisstrange,fearfulfigure,withanunseenface,swoopingintherefromoutthedarkness,comeandgoneinaninstant,butleavingbehindhimatrackofterroranddeathandrageandundyinggrief.Withintheyear,ingivingbirthtothechild,Angelehaddied.

           ThelittlebabewastakenbyAngele’sparents,andAngelewasburiedintheMissiongardenneartotheaged,greysundial.Vanameestoodbyduringtheceremony,buthalfconsciousofwhatwasgoingforward.Atthelastmomenthehadsteppedforward,lookedlongintothedeadfaceframedinitsplaitsofgoldhair,thehairthatmadethree-corneredtheround,whiteforehead;lookedagainattheclosedeyes,withtheirperplexingupwardslanttowardthetemples,oriental,bizarre;atthelipswiththeirEgyptianfulness;atthesweet,slenderneck;thelong,slimhands;thenabruptlyturnedabout.Thelastclodswerefillingthegraveatatimewhenhewasalreadyfaraway,hishorse’sheadturnedtowardthedesert.

           Fortwoyearsnosyllablewasheardofhim.Itwasbelievedthathehadkilledhimself.ButVanameehadnothoughtofthat.FortwoyearshewanderedthroughArizona,livinginthedesert,inthewilderness,arecluse,anomad,anascetic.But,doubtless,allhisheartwasinthelittlecoffinintheMissiongarden.Onceinsooftenhemustcomebackthither.OnedayhewasseenagainintheSanJoaquin.Thepriest,FatherSarria,returningfromavisittothesickatBonneville,methimontheUpperRoad.