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But on the other side of the fountain, and directly opposite the door of the Mission, ranged against the wall, were nine graves three with headstones, the rest with slabs. Two of Sarria's predecessors were buried here; three of the graves were those of Mission Indians. But the quiet, the repose, the isolation of the little cloister garden was infinitely delicious.
But he had returned by way of Bonneville to get a crate that had come for him from San Diego. He had been notified of its arrival the day before. Annixter pulled up and passed the time of day with the priest. "I don't often get up your way," he said, slowing down his horse to accommodate Sarria's deliberate plodding. Sarria wiped the perspiration from his smooth, shiny face. "You?
A burro, over-fed, lazy, incorrigible, browsed on the hill back of the Mission, obstinately refusing to be harnessed to Sarria's little cart, squealing and biting whenever the attempt was made; and the priest suffered him, submitting to his humour, inventing excuses for him, alleging that the burro was foundered, or was in need of shoes, or was feeble from extreme age.
He practically supported some half-dozen families that lived in forgotten cabins, lost and all but inaccessible, in the far corners of stock range and canyon. This particular greaser was the laziest, the dirtiest, the most worthless of the lot. But in Sarria's mind, the lout was an object of affection, sincere, unquestioning.
But, as he descended the hill, he was startled by a prolonged and raucous cry, discordant, very harsh, thrice repeated at exact intervals, and, looking up, he saw one of Father Sarria's peacocks balancing himself upon the topmost wire of the fence, his long tail trailing, his neck outstretched, filling the air with his stupid outcry, for no reason than the desire to make a noise.
"He died this morning as you might say, in my arms, painfully, but in the faith, in the faith. A good fellow." "A lazy, cattle-stealing, knife-in-his-boot Dago." "You misjudge him. A really good fellow on better acquaintance." Annixter grunted scornfully. Sarria's kindness and good-will toward the most outrageous reprobates of the ranches was proverbial.
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