It was a long procession of us."
"Where is Pachanga?" asked Ramona.
"About three miles from Temecula, a little sort of canon. I told the
people they'd better move over there; the land did not belong to
anybody, and perhaps they could make a living there. There isn't
any water; that's the worst of it."
"No water!" cried Ramona.
"No running water. There is one little spring, and they dug a well
by it as soon as they got there; so there was water to drink, but that
is all. I saw Carmena could hardly keep up, and I carried the baby
for her on one arm, while I led my father with the other hand; but
the baby cried, so she took it back. I thought then it wouldn't live
the day out; but it did live till the morning of the day my father
died. Just a few hours before he died, Carmena came along with
the baby rolled up in her shawl, and sat down by me on the ground,
and did not speak. When I said, 'How is the little one?' she opened
her shawl and showed it to me, dead. 'Good, Carmena!' said I. 'It is
good! My father is dying too. We will bury them together.
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