Me an' Babby [pp. 58-70]

"Me an' Babby."
Sippy gazed intently on the shining
rails ahead, leaving his post only to replenish the fiery core of heat in the furnace. A short distance from San Fernando we crossed the Tejunga Wash,
which presented for miles a desolate surface of sand, wind-blown into heaps, and
dotted here and there with clumps of
wild sage, wormwood, and that Mexican
panacea for all disease, the yerba santa.
I felt a wild exhilaration at this mad race
down the sloping plain, now scorched
into somber hues of gray and brown by
the long, rainless summer. Behind the
low hills that barred our view of the
ocean, the sun sent up a blazing challenge to the night. To the north and
west masses of clouds swung in from the
sea, the pink of their edges fast deepening into crimson and gold. A radiant
curtain spread from the western hills
across the wide valley, its farthest fringes
caught up by the topmost peaks of Santa
Susanna's violet ridges on the north.
All the tender voices of the night, the
chirrup of bird in the brush or cricket
in the grass, or the sharper cry of owl
or hawk, were drowned in the loud pantings of our straining engine. We were
going at a noble pace,- well described
in Festus's ride with Lucifer:
"By Chaos I this is gallant sport
A league at every breath!
Methinks if ever I have to die
I'11 ride this rate to death!"
"What is that?" I exclaimed excitedly, as we shot by a tall figure walking
beside the track.
"I think it's a woman carrying a child,"
said Sippy, respectfully; "and bless me
if it is n't a queer place for them, with
no company but coyotes!"
I tried to catch another glimpse of the
lone traveler.
"It looked too tall for a woman," I answered doubtfully. "Besides it wore a
man's hat and linen duster, I am sure.
What could he be doing with so young
a child, Sippy?"
"It beats me, ma'am. There ain't no
house for miles around these parts";
and nodding his head thoughtfully over
the engine Sippy resumed his lookout
ahead.
For a few moments longer my mind
dwelt on the solitary figure we had already left far behind, and then the present claimed my undivided attention. We
were rocking like a cradle on the uneven
track. With lurch and bound we reeled
forward, now flying over bridges that
crossed the dizzy walls of some ancient
water channel, and again tearing down
the grade with frightful rapidity, our
wild shrieks of warning scaring the herds
of cattle scattered along our way. Back
of us trailed a long black plume of
smoke, and straight before ran the silver-edged ribbon of the track.
As we neared the end of the San Fernando valley the mountains draw closer
together, forming a narrow neck between, through which flows the Los
Angeles River, a slender thread of blue
in a wide waste of white sand and heaps
of whiter stones. We slackened speed
as we rounded the butte that rises precipitately from the river bed, and I
caught a breath of intoxicating odors
from the starry blossoms that hung in
wild profusion from the zanja's rim above
us. We were now entering the suburbs
of Los Angeles, and a bevy of half naked
michac/itos stopped their play to stare
open-mouthed at the lady sitting in the
place usually occupied by the fireman.
When we reached the depot and Sippy
had carefully helped me to alight, he
glanced at his watch and said:
"We made it in just twenty-one minutes, ma'am."
"It was glorious, Sippy! I thank you
for a rare treat," I replied heartily.
"Twenty-two miles in twenty-one minutes," I said to myself reflectively, while
walking briskly up Commercial Street.
"I wonder if that is very fast! I must
ask John." And having disposed of
this problem as I did all others in those
days, I gave myself up to my shopping.
60
[Jan.