FLOATING GARDENS
"Xochimilco or place of flowers. How lovely," Nan spoke softly in the
presence of the beauty before her.
Adair MacKenzie in his desire to introduce the girls to something that
would make them forget the bullfight had brought them to one of the
prettiest places in all Mexico. Now, he was looking exceedingly pleased
with himself.
"Oh, daddy," Alice too was thrilled at the spectacle before them. "Many,
many times I've heard of the floating gardens of Mexico and I've always
wanted to see them."
"Well, there they are," Adair said as off-handedly as possible under the
circumstances. "Now you see them."
They laughed at his matter-of-factness.
"If you will allow me," Walker Jamieson who had deserted the party
immediately after the car had been parked, now brought a canoe he had
rented and paddled up one of the many canals before them to a stop at
their feet. He stood up and held out his arm to Alice.
"Fair lady, you come first." He said as he helped her in and assisted
her to a seat opposite him. "And now, Nan." So one after the other he
helped the members of the party to places in the large canoe.
"H-h-hm," Adair MacKenzie cleared his throat as he seated his bulk.
"Now, I'd say this is more in keeping with what young ladies should
like. How about it?" He addressed his question to Grace who was beaming
beside him.
She nodded in agreement.
Everyone was completely happy as Walker pushed the canoe off. So the
rest of the afternoon was whiled away in paddling lazily through the
flower-bordered canals.
"Why are they called floating gardens?" Nan addressed her question to
Walker who seemed a fountainhead of information about all sorts of
things.
"Simply because they float," Walker answered as he disentangled his
paddle from some lily stems along the side.
"But you can't actually see them move," Nan said as she peered earnestly
at one of the many islands.
"No, you can't, now," Walker agreed. "But there was a time, Miss
Curiosity, ages ago when these beautiful gardens actually did float from
place to place, a time when you didn't know from one day to the next
just where you'd wake up and find a certain particularly beautiful one."
"Why?" The subject was an intriguing one and Nan wanted to know all
about it.
"Oh, they say," Walker continued quietly, "that the earth of the gardens
lies on interlacing twigs. Naturally before the water filled in as it is
now, these twigs moved with the current and carried their burden of
earth and flowers along with them.
"This was always a beautiful spot," he continued, "even back before the
Aztecs found the eagle on the cactus and conquered the region and
settled their capitol. When they did all this and found themselves with
leisure on their hands, the nobles made of this place a playground, and
the Aztec papa and mama came here with the Aztec child for Sunday
picnics.
"Today, if I hadn't been as energetic as I am," he paused and grinned at
the snort that this brought forth from Alice's father, "a descendant of
these same Aztecs, who still, by the way, speaks the tongue of his
forefathers, would have been plying this gondola. The Aztecs still live
around here and still preserve many of the ancient customs of their
people."
He rested the paddle on the side of the canoe as he finished and, as
water dripped from it making little rings in the canal, he sat idly
dreaming. The canoe drifted along and came to rest under an over-hanging
willow. No one spoke. It was a magic moment, for the sun was setting and
sending low rays over the water. Tropical birds were singing
full-throated songs and in the distance they could hear, faintly, the
sound of music.
Finally, Alice spoke. "It can't be very different," she said, "than it
was centuries ago. For the same exotic flowers ran wild here then that
do now, and the same birds sang. How queer that makes me feel. Century
after century has unrolled and yet this is the same."
"I know." Walker looked across at her. "Makes you feel, doesn't it, that
time isn't so important after all, that a philosophy in which 'manana'
is the all-important word is perhaps not such a bad one after all."
"Here, here," Adair MacKenzie broke the spell. "Don't go preaching that
manana business to these girls. They are lazy enough as it is. Look at
them now, will you?"
In truth, the girls did all look comfortable and lazy, entirely at peace
with themselves and the world and not at all like the busy energetic
beings that they were at school.
"The world doesn't seem real, does it?" Nan looked at Bess as she made
this observation.
"No," Bess answered. "Not real at all. This, I believe, is the most
romantic spot we have ever been in."
"Yes," Nan agreed idly, and for some reason or other her thoughts
drifted back towards home and school and then to Walter, Grace's
brother.
"I've been meaning to tell you," Grace broke in on her train of thought
as though she knew what had been going on in Nan's mind. "Mother said in
that letter I got at Wells Fargo's this morning that she had consented
to let Walter go on a motor trip through the West and Mexico with his
Spanish teacher."
"Yes." Nan's voice betrayed her interest, and she was conscious as she
spoke that all the girls were suddenly more alert. The piece of news was
one they were interested in too.
"It seems," Grace went on, pleased that she had the attention of
everyone, "that every year he takes a group down through this district
so that they can hear Spanish spoken by the people whose tongue it is.
Walter likes Spanish and so he's going along with them."
"When will he be here," Bess asked the question which she knew Nan
wanted to ask but wouldn't in face of the interest that everyone was
showing in the matter.
"Oh, mother wasn't sure," Grace answered. "It all depends on so many
things. They'll be gone the whole summer and will linger at the places
the boys seem to like the best. It seems that the teacher leaves the
itinerary almost entirely up to them."
"Sounds like fun." Nan tried to be casual and general as she spoke, but
she didn't altogether succeed.
"What's all this about?" Adair MacKenzie had caught the drift of the
conversation. "Who is this Walter anyway?"
"He is Grace's brother," Nan answered.
"Yes?" Adair was not to be put off so easily.
"And he went with us to Rose Ranch a few summers ago and met us in
London with Grace's mother and dad last year." Nan thought it would be
better for her to answer the questions.
"Hm-m-m. Think I understand." Adair appeared to be devoting much thought
to this "understanding" business for he said nothing further for a
while. Finally, as though he suddenly remembered what they had been
talking about, he returned to the subject.
"Why can't the young hoodlums--I have no doubt but what they are young
hoodlums, all boys are--stop at the hacienda with us for a few days?" he
asked.
Grace's face beamed at this. "Why, how nice!" she exclaimed, "but just
think, there will be five of them at least."
"What of it?" Adair dismissed this as an objection. "Got lots of room.
We'll make a party of it when they come and serve them a real Mexican
meal." Adair seemed to have forgotten entirely that he personally
despised Mexican cooking. "Hot tamales, tortillas, everything." He waved
his hand grandly as though the whole world would be at the disposal of
the boys for the asking.
"Like boys anyway," Adair went on. "Girls are a nuisance. Always
fainting. Oh, it doesn't matter," he glossed over this last part of
conversation as he saw the blood mounting to Grace's cheeks. "Just like
to have boys around." He ended rather weakly. "Now, let's see. It's
getting pretty dark, better move on." He motioned to Walker who
obediently took the paddle in hand and began the leisurely journey back.