The Wolf Cub

s father kissed him upon both cheeks and upon the brow,

He was bound for that hot, sandy No Man's Land which lies between the British outpost, Gibraltar, and sunburned, haggard, tragic Spain. The two dogs, Pepe and Lenchito, went

Picacho de la Veleta lifted its craggy head; off to the northeast bulked snowy old "Muley Hassan" Cerro de Mulhacen, the highest peak of the penins

l. She knelt before the dingy altar a long time. Then she lit a blessed candle

e for thy fath

ght a candle for our

d the Great Pity will not let him be k

f the Guardia Civil hate, then, the pobre padre

vil kill any breaker of the laws they discover guilty

ttle mother. He is no lagarto, no lizard

the good God, and if Pepe and Lenchito be shrewd to skulk through the shadows of night and swift to run past the policemen on watch, we will have

ntly and too long, altogether too long, had the trees been cut down and the manzanilla harvested. The mountains had grown sterile, barren, bald. Not so many cords of Spanish pine were sledded down

vision his good wife and his cabana full of lusty brats by hunting the Spanish ibex? He has but one weapon-the ancient muzzle-loading smooth-bore. And the

wept gorges and the implacable hunger. Out of every ten only one crawled back, beaten and bruised by the savage Spanish cities and the savage Spanish plains. W

avors. Shrewd were the dogs, Pepe and Lenchito, but they were not so shrewd as were the Spanish police. Came a pal

Lenchito; they had walked him out behind a sand dune; they had made him dig a grave. Then they had shot down Lenchito; then they h

n of the Guardia Civil are not abominations of cruelty

oot and five thousand cavalry. By twos, eternally by twos, they go through

ature greases his wayward feet. The Spaniard is by nature sullen, irascible, insolently indepen

lees from the police. Spain is a country of uncouth wilds. There are the desolate high steppes and the savage mountains; there are the tawny d

a Civil. And, were it not for Caciquismo, all evil-doers would be speedily apprehended by the Guardia

is not the Camorra of Naples. Yet it resembles both these corrupt edifices in its special Spanish way. Its inst

councilor to the king. Yet high or low, he is but one of the many tenta

t if he be one in good standing with the caciques, never is he sent to the Carcel de la Corte or Ceuta. The invisible eight arms of the gigantic octopus uncoil and reach out, the thousand ducts along those ar

The criminal caught in the deed never reaches the Spanish jail. He is sh

ere left! Women who had been made widows in the selfsame way as Jacinto Quesada's mother came to the hut and sought to comfort her. But she would not be comforted. For

o the village in the night. A man of the village went for the doctor, Don Jaime de Torreblanca y Mon

eagle-stern and eagle-haughty Spanish sort-the Cortes y Monroy sort, the Hernan de Soto sort. He worshipped his ancient name, his

down his boot and set off after them, vowing to follow them to the end of the earth even, and to kill them both. But the train, in whic

urse God for robbing him of his revenge. Only grim, quiet and morose, he returned to his

Spaniards have gray eyes. The eyes of Torreblanca y Moncada were a clear, cold, agate gray. All in all, there was about his appearance, especially the long aquiline nose, the stony eyes and pointe

ad only a contemptuous eye and a bitter smile and a harsh imperious way. They

doctor's degree. No Jesuit was more slave to his oaths; no Jesuit worked with more zeal for God and the Society than did Don Jaime for Humanity and Science. The most

long howling gorges; it mattered not to him that the mountaineers never had money to pay him his just due. He was indeed a "hard man," haughty as Satanas, and grim and

-oak in the center of the village when the hidal

?" asked one of the old men, old Castro

merely sick

llness of Spain! All Spa

ere is no food for honest men to eat. And men turn dishonest, thinking by crime to appease their gnawing bellies. They became contrab

their national color; black for their lost cause. They should put a black stripe wi

e!" said the old

e have seen our sons grow desperate. We have seen them one by one go away. There was Benito, my youngest. He became a contrabandista, and the Civil Guard murdered him.

il must keep the peace of Spain. And Spaniards must steal to live. It is dog eat

ut of Jacinto Quesada's mother. When he came out ag

aning, 'My poor Jacintito! What will become of t

ir. I will carry him with me down the mountain to my casa outside Granada and keep him there for a time. I have not much

heart of gold!" cried one wom

eblanca y Moncada!" cried another. And the others would have burst ou

easants' brat into his jacket and alpagartas, and wrap him warmly in his shawl. I desire to get