as the wind blew the flowers a golden dust blew upon it.  Juan asked her where to find such flowers, and she told him that upon a certain day she would take him to the mountain to look for them.  And upon the day she led up to the mountain-top from which they could see beautiful valleys and great trees and cool waters.  There at the top of a wonderful slope that looked down upon the world, she showed Juan the flowers.  And Juan found gold in such abundance that he thought he would go out of his mind.  Dust of gold!  Grains of gold!  Pebbles of gold!  Rocks of gold!  He was rich beyond all dreams.  He remembered the Virgin and her words.  He must return to his people and build their church, and the great city that would bear his name.

“But Juan tarried.  Always he was going manana.  He loved the dark-eyed Apache girl so well that he could not leave her.  He hated himself for his infidelity to his Virgin, to his people.  He was weak and false, a sinner.  But he could not go, and he gave himself up to love of the Indian maiden.

“The old Apache chief discovered the secret love of his daughter and the padre.  And, fierce in his anger, he took her up into the mountains and burned her alive and cast her ashes upon the wind.  He did not kill Padre Juan.  He was too wise, and perhaps too cruel, for he saw the strength of Juan’s love.  Besides, many of his tribe had learned much from the Spaniard.

“Padre Juan fell into despair.  He had no desire to live.  He faded and wasted away.  But before he died he went to the old Indians who had burned the maiden, and he begged them, when he was dead, to burn his body and to cast his ashes to the wind from that wonderful slope, where they would blow away to mingle forever with those of his Indian sweetheart.

“The Indians promised, and when Padre Juan died they burned his body and took his ashes to the mountain heights and cast them to the wind, where they drifted and fell to mix with the ashes of the Indian girl he had loved.

“Years passed.  More padres traveled across the desert to the home of the Apaches, and they heard the story of Juan.  Among their number was a padre who in his youth had been one of Juan’s people.  He set forth to find Juan’s grave, where he believed he would also find the gold.  And he came back with pebbles of gold and flowers that shed a golden dust, and he told a wonderful story.  He had climbed and climbed into the mountains, and he had come to a wonderful slope under the crags.  That slope was yellow with golden flowers.  When he touched them golden ashes drifted from them and blew down among the rocks.  There the padre found dust of gold, grains of gold, pebbles of gold, rocks of gold.

“Then all the padres went into the mountains.  But the discoverer of the mine lost his way.  They searched and searched until they were old and gray, but never found the wonderful slope and flowers that marked the grave and the mine of Padre Juan.