Scarcely had it touched the ground before Devil and Holy Father simultaneously cast themselves toward it. In the struggle they clenched, and the pious Jose, who was as much the superior of his antagonist in bodily as in spiritual strength, was about to treat the Great Adversary to a back somersault, when he suddenly felt the long nails of the stranger piercing his flesh. A new fear seized his heart, a numbing chillness crept through his body, and he struggled to free himself, but in vain. A strange roaring was in his ears; the late and cavern danced before his eyes and vanished; and with a loud cry he sank senseless to the ground.
* * * * *
When he recovered his consciousness he was aware of a gentle swaying motion of his body. He opened his eyes, and saw that it was high noon, and that he was being carried in a litter through the valley. He felt stiff, and, looking down, perceived that his arm was tightly bandaged to his side.
He closed his eyes, and, after a few words of thankful prayer, thought how miraculously he had been preserved, and made a vow of candlesticks to the blessed Saint Jose. He then called in a faint voice, and presently the penitent Ignacio stood beside him.
The joy the poor fellow felt at his patron’s returning consciousness for some time choked his utterance. He could only ejaculate, “A miracle! Blessed Saint Jose, he lives!” and kiss the Padre’s bandaged hand. Father Jose, more intent on his last night’s experience, waited for his emotion to subside, and then asked where he had been found.
“On the mountain, your Reverence, but a few varas from where he attacked you.”
“How?—you saw him, then?” asked the Padre, in unfeigned astonishment.
“Saw him, your Reverence! Mother of God, I should think I did! And your Reverence shall see him too, if he ever comes again within range of Ignacio’s arquebuse.”
“What mean you, Ignacio?” said the Padre, sitting bolt-upright in his litter.
“Why, the bear, your Reverence,—the bear, Holy Father, who attacked your worshipful person while you were meditating on the top of yonder mountain.”
“Ah!” said the Holy Father, lying down again. “Chut, child! I would be at peace.”
When he reached the Mission, he was tenderly cared for, and in a few weeks was enabled to resume those duties from which, as will be seen, not even the machinations of the Evil One could divert him. The news of his physical disaster spread over the country; and a letter to the Bishop of Guadalaxara contained a confidential and detailed account of the good Father’s spiritual temptation. But in some way the story leaked out; and long after Jose was gathered to his fathers, his mysterious encounter formed the theme of thrilling and whispered narrative. The mountain was generally shunned. It is true that Senor Joaquin Pedrillo afterward located a grant near the base of the mountain; but as the Senora Pedrillo was known to be a termagant, half-breed, the Senor was not supposed to be over-fastidious.


