The Squatter and the Don. María Amparo Ruiz de Burton

claim; I want a fair deal. I shall locate two claims here—one in my own name and one for my oldest son, Clarence,” said Darrell.

      “You'll take 320 acres?” asked Hughes.

      “Yes, 320 acres—according to law,” replied Darrell.

      “All right. Let us measure them now,” said Gasbang. “We have time to mark the limits and put the corner stakes. I have a cord here in my wagon, which is a chain's length. That will do the business.”

      “That will do temporarily, I suppose; but I'll have the two claims properly surveyed afterwards according to law,” Darrell said.

      “Of course, you will. We all know you will do the fair thing by everybody, and follow the law strictly,” said Hughes. In which opinion all concurred.

      “Have you all made your selections?” Darrell asked Hughes.

      “Yes; Pittikin and I will locate near Hancock. We like that valley; it is further off, but better soil,” said Hughes. “My oldest boy will put a claim near me, and Miller's two boys have staked theirs also. I think we'll like that location better.”

      “I am glad you like it. I think this is good enough soil for me,” Darrell said.

      “It is good enough for anybody. The whole rancho is all good soil. Let us put the stakes now,” said Gasbang; and assisted by Mathews, Romeo Hancock and Sumner Pittikin, Darrell proceeded by making a rough guess to measure 320 acres (more or less), and put the corner stakes.

      “This is what I call business,” said Gasbang, carrying cheerfully one end of the rope used for measurement; “and all inside of the law. That is the beauty of it—all perfectly lawful.”

      And so it was.

      The stakes having been placed, Darrell felt satisfied. Next day he would have the claim properly filed, and in due time a surveyor would measure them. All would be done “according to law,” and in this easy way more land was taken from its legitimate owner.

      This certainly was a more simple way of appropriating the property of “the conquered” than in the days of Alaric or Hannibal.

      There would have been bloodshed then. Now tears only flowed; silent tears of helpless discouragement; of a presentiment of impending desolation.

      Sadly Doña Josefa and her daughters had witnessed from the half-closed shutters of their bedroom windows Mr. Darrell's performance, and fully anticipated serious trouble therefrom.

      Don Mariano Alamar, Gabriel and Victoriano—his two sons—had also silently witnessed Mr. Darrell's lawful appropriation of their own property. Gabriel was pale and calm. Victoriano was biting his lips, and his face was flushed.

      “The government has for sale hundreds of millions of acres, but yet these men must come and take my land, as if there was no other,” said Don Mariano, sadly.

      “And as we pay the taxes on the land that they will cultivate, our taxes will double next year,” Gabriel added.

      “Undoubtedly. That climax to injustice has been the most fatal of all the hardships imposed upon us. George could not believe me when I told him that we (the land-owners) have to pay the taxes on the land cultivated by the pre-emptors, and upon all the improvements they make and enjoy. When he at last understood that such unfair laws did exist, he was amazed, but understood then why the settlers wished to prolong litigation, since it is ‘the natives’ who must bear the burden of taxation, while the titles are in the courts, and thus the pre-emptors hold the land free.”

      “I wish we were squatters,” Victoriano remarked.

      “During litigation, yes; but there have been cases where honest men have, in good faith, taken lands as squatters, and after all, had to give them up. No, I don't blame the squatters; they are at times like ourselves, victims of a wrong legislation, which unintentionally cuts both ways. They were set loose upon us, but a law without equity recoils upon them more cruelly. Then we are all sufferers, all victims of a defective legislation and subverted moral principles.”

      CHAPTER IV.—Efforts to Right the Wrong.

       Table of Contents

      Darrell was not the man to make any delay in putting into practice a project, when once adopted. He therefore immediately wrote home saying that he “had located,” and wished Clarence to come down as soon as home matters permitted it. All the crops must be in first, so that Everett and Webster could take care of the farm when Clarence left. They had two good farm hands and a man to take care of the dairy, but still, Darrell made his boys give their personal attention to all the work on the farm. He wrote to Clarence that he would build a small house quickly, which afterwards could be used for the hired men, and would wait until he came down to begin building their dwelling house. That he would level the ground for the house, sink a couple of wells and put up two windmills, the running stream not being sufficient.

      “I think I had better buy the lumber for the house up here and charter a schooner to send it down,” Clarence said to his mother, after reading his father's letter.

      “Did he say anything to you about the condition of the title?” Mrs. Darrell asked.

      “Not a word. I suppose the land is vacant,” Clarence replied. Mrs. Darrell shook her head, as if in doubt.

      “I want you to see to that, before there is any house built in which I shall be expected to reside,” she said. “The first thing you do when you get there is to inquire whether the land has been finally rejected and there is no litigation for it. If there is, I want you to pay for it to the owner. And if he will not or cannot sell, write to me at once.”

      “Very well, mother, I shall do as you say, and I assure you I do not wish father to take up any land claimed by any one under a Mexican title. I think those Spanish people ought to be allowed to keep the land that their government gave them. We ought not to have made any laws that would place their titles in a bad light and be questioned. We should have accepted the legality they had before their own Mexican government, without making some other legality requisite, to please ourselves,” Clarence said.

      “That has always been my opinion, but I have failed to convince your father. However, with our combined efforts, we might dissuade him from his present way of thinking,” said Mrs. Darrell.

      Clarence would not be able to leave home for a few weeks yet. In the meantime, his father had not been idle, he had lost no time in carrying out his plans, and shortly after making his “location” in the manner described, he had several men engaged in different employments at his place. When he had already begun building the small house, of which he spoke in his letter to Clarence, Don Mariano, accompanied by his two sons, rode up to the place where he was then superintending his workmen.

      “Good morning, Mr. Darrell,” said Don Mariano.

      “Good morning,” Darrell answered, laconically.

      “Can I speak a few words with you?”

      “Certainly,” he said, going a few steps nearer.

      “I see you have taken up some land here, and I suppose you think it is government land, but if so, you are misinformed. This land belongs to me,” Don Mariano said.

      “Why is it reported rejected then? I have seen the law report, stating that your title was rejected.”

      “Yes, I know that such is the case. For some mistake or other the entry was made placing my title in the list of those rejected, but I assure you that it is a mistake. My title is now before the attorney general in Washington, because, having been approved, the settlers took an appeal. If the attorney general sustains the appeal, I suppose he will remand the case for a new trial, but I have reasons to suppose he will dismiss the appeal and affirm the decision of the District Court in my favor.”

      “We will see about that,”