My bed facing the open window on the river, where the sun was rising,
waked me at five. I got up stiffly and dressed at once. Found my host
on the verandah and had a little conversation with him. He was a Swiss,
and we talked French. Round his neck was a great scar. I learned
afterwards that he had been hung by order of Carranza and was cut
down just in time before he could die. We breakfasted at six and our
host drove us to the railway station, three kilometres away, where we
caught the 6:30 train full of workingmen; among whom in appearance we
seemed quite in keeping. Dick was rather sleepy and said he felt sick,
but otherwise showed no signs of the strain of the night before. He may
have been carried at most two kilometers, for the rest of 18 he had
walked it gallantly, and (after the sun had gone down) uncomplainingly.
His powers of endurance before his sixth birthday made me extremely
proud, and very hopeful of him.