IN MEXICO
In the little settlement on the Rio Grande, situated at the terminus of
the short line of railroad, the five encountered a Mexican, who, for a
few coins, piloted them to a place along the river where the banks were
so shelving that for a great part of the way horses could wade across.
At a lonely, deserted spot the Americans set foot in Mexico--that land
of revolution and turmoil--a land that may truthfully boast of the most
wonderful resources, yet within the confines of which can be found the
greatest of poverty and misery.
After riding over a rough and rugged trail, nearly always in sight of a
range of distant snow-clad mountains, the men and boys, hot, dusty and
tired, reached the quaint little frontier town about four o’clock in
the afternoon.
The action of the United States Government in sending war-ships to Vera
Cruz and landing marines and soldiers at that port was of a too recent
occurrence for the hot-headed Mexicans to have forgotten their anger
and resentment. Therefore as the foam-flecked, steaming mustangs jogged
slowly along the main street an occasional cry of “Gringo” generally
uttered by some youthful voice rose above the sound of trampling hoofs.
Here and there picturesque little towers rose against the sky. Then
the characteristic Mexican balconies, over the railings of which many
a gaudily-colored rug was thrown; the pots of flowers in bloom; the
semi-tropical vegetation and the traces, still to be seen on many
sides, of the days when the Spaniards held control, all combined to
form scenes full of interest and color.
Every one seemed to be moving about the sun-baked streets with an air
of indolence. Men and youths were occasionally seen, sprawled out
in the bluish shadows, some with high conical hats pulled well down
over their eyes. The very atmosphere of the place suggested languor
and inaction; yet those well informed knew that behind this air of
tranquillity lay grave fears for the safety of the town. Encamped only
twenty miles away, the Constitutionalists’ line of steel might at any
moment advance and attack the Federal garrison.
As they rode slowly along Professor Kent spoke about these things to
the boys, causing a sparkle to replace the fatigued look in Cranny
Beaumont’s eye.
“Fellows, it’s just like living in a place near a sleepin’ volcano,” he
exclaimed.
“I am thinking of something else,” said Dave. “I’ll take some chile con
carne, frijoles, tortillas, and a whole lot of----”
“Have mercy,” pleaded George Parry, with a weary smile.
“I’m not going to have any on my pocket-book,” declared Dick.
The travelers were now turning into a big plaza. On one side the bell
tower of the cathedral rising dazzlingly white against the deep blue
sky was the dominating note of the scene. Flocks of pigeons fluttered
about the belfry or swarmed over the ground.
It was market day and plenty of the stands were still heaped up with
fruits and vegetables of many sorts. In their chairs, sheltered by
dingy awnings from the torrid rays of heat which made the plaza fairly
sizzle, fat old market women and men sat dozing. They awakened very
quickly, however, as the horsemen clattered along.
Their voices suddenly broke the silence; heads popped out of windows;
from various quarters people appeared to stare, apparently in great
astonishment, at this new American invasion.
Goats walked unconcernedly over piles of refuse. A little yellow cur
trotted past, showing its teeth and giving vent to a challenging growl.
Then from beneath the shadows of a line of mulberry trees a mounted
rurale galloped forth.
The riders pulled up to listen to a string of words which had less
meaning to them than the bark of the yellow dog. By means of some
extraordinary signs, however, Cranny managed to convey to the officer’s
brain an understanding of what they required. Then like a general at
the head of his troops, he conducted the party, now surrounded by a
curious gaping crowd, to a near-by hotel and restaurant.
A fat Mexican, evidently the proprietor, greeted them with an
ingratiating smile. In the proceedings which immediately followed, the
use of language on their part was fortunately not required. In a deep
bass voice he called a man from the stable in the rear, who took charge
of the mustangs; then he with many polite bows conducted the visitors
inside.
“What a relief it is to be in a cool retreat at last,” exclaimed
Professor Kent, mopping his perspiring brow.
“It’s worth all the discomforts we’ve gone through,” declared Dave.
The next hour was a busy one. After selecting rooms and stowing away
their belongings, they washed; then, having made themselves thoroughly
comfortable, gathered down-stairs in the shady patio or courtyard,
where a characteristically Mexican meal was served by the proprietor
himself--the most active man they had seen so far in town.
“By Jove! This grub is great stuff!” declared Cranny, enthusiastically.
“It may taste as though some one had accidentally spilled a package of
pepper in it, but it’s the kind that lingers in the memory.”
“A confoundedly hot sensation in my throat certainly has,” laughed
Parry.
“Boys, I’m mighty glad to be alive.”
“And we’re very glad you are,” said the professor smilingly. “You’ll
add much to the gayety of Mexico.”
“Fellows, now what are we going to do?” demanded Dick, pushing his
chair back in a very contented frame of mind.
“Take a nap,” suggested the lecturer.
“A nap!” echoed Tom, in horrified tones. “I should say not--I want to
see the town.”
“You’ll need a body-guard, so I’ll go along,” grinned Dick.
“Then another will be required for you,” said Bob.
“That means I’ll have to look after the whole bunch,” declared Cranny.
“Let’s beat it.”
Professor Kent and Parry, succumbing to drowsy feeling, nodded sleepily
when the lads a few moments later said good-bye and started off.
They found that the fierce heat had begun to wane and that mellow
softened lights replaced the unpleasant glare of the midday sun.
There were many more people on the streets, too. Many of the men wore
bright colored sashes and handkerchiefs about their waists and necks,
while the appearance of the dark-eyed women and girls was often greatly
enhanced by long, flowing shawls or flowers stuck in their hair.
“They look more Spanish than the Spanish,” chuckled Cranny.
“And I should judge by the way everybody stares at us that we look
awfully United States,” grinned Dick.
In leisurely fashion the crowd tramped along, often stopping to look in
store windows filled with all sorts of articles of Mexican workmanship.
Dainty little necklaces made of shells strung together, gold and silver
ornaments of exquisite design, and quaint and extraordinarily ugly clay
figures, the work of Indians, excited their admiration.
The proprietors of shops had no hesitation in rushing out and calling
attention to their goods.
“Well, fellows,” remarked Cranny, in rueful tones, “I’d like to buy
some trinket, but honest to goodness,” he shook his head, “I think
more of a nickel now than I used to of a dollar.”
“Hit upon any scheme yet?” asked Bob sympathetically.
“Yes, plenty of ’em.”
“Made any decision?”
“No I haven’t!” answered Cranny, almost fiercely. Then for fully five
minutes his brow remained clouded as disturbing thoughts ran through
his mind.
“There’s one word I’ll never forget, and that’s Gringo,” laughed Dick.
He glanced around with a cheerful grin, to survey a small group of
frankly hostile boys.
“Nor I,” said Bob, “but if we don’t run up against anything worse than
that, I’ll be satisfied.”
Following a number of twisting streets, they slowly retraced their
steps to the hotel where Professor Kent and his assistant were
anxiously awaiting their appearance.
“Thank goodness, you’ve come at last,” exclaimed the latter. “Hungry!
Why, boys--I’m getting almost as big an appetite as that stout
historian of yours.”
It didn’t take long for them to gather around a table in the patio,
this time full of a noisy, jabbering crowd. Then, after another spicy
and highly seasoned meal which was lingered over in the same leisurely
manner which characterized the Mexicans near by, they strolled out on
the veranda.
The moon from an unbroken expanse of greenish gray poured a flood of
light over gaily chattering throngs. In and out of the shadows cast
by the mulberry trees they ceaselessly marched, and among them were
laughing, dark-eyed señoritas and Federal soldiers whose uniforms added
touches of color to the scene.
It all made a very entrancing picture; for neither the moonlight nor
the brighter glare from the electric lamps was sufficiently strong to
reveal the crudeness on all sides so evident in the hot cruel glare of
the day.
And now over the languorous air, filled with the scene of flowers and
shrubs, came the soft strains of music, catchy, inspiring. Many a foot
beat time, and many a couple, light-hearted and laughing, danced near
the mulberry trees.
“Ah, this is simply great,” declared Cranny, with a sigh of pleasure,
“and yet----” he paused.
“Yes?” said Professor Kent interrogatively.
“One certainly wouldn’t think----”
“What?”
“That all this still makes me think of the dangers one runs when
staying near a sleeping volcano.”