initial commit of ebook 48510HEADmain

9 files changed, 11397 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/48510-0.txt b/48510-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..618fc75
--- /dev/null
+++ b/48510-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,5266 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Thirteen Stories, by R. B. Cunninghame Graham
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 
+whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at 
+www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: Thirteen Stories
+
+
+Author: R. B. Cunninghame Graham
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 17, 2015  [eBook #48510]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIRTEEN STORIES***
+
+
+This eBook was transcribed by Les Bowler
+
+
+
+
+
+                             Thirteen Stories
+
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                    By
+                         R. B. Cunninghame Graham
+
+                                Author of
+                         “Mogreb-El-Acksa,” etc.
+
+                      [Picture: Decorative graphic]
+
+                                  London
+                            William Heinemann
+                                   1900
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+_All rights_, _including translation_, _reserved_
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                   _To_
+
+                          _George Morton Mansel_
+
+_I Dedicate these sketches_, _stories_, _studies_, _or what do you call
+them_.  _We have galloped together over many leagues of Pampa_, _by day
+and night_, _and therefore I hope he will find the tales_ (_or what do
+you call them_) _as near square by the lifts and braces_, _as is to be
+expected from a mere landsman_.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+_Acknowledgments are due to_:
+
+_The_ “_Saturday Review_,” _the_ “_Westminster Gazette_,” _and_
+“_Justice_,” _in which papers several of the Sketches included in this
+volume have appeared_.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+TO-DAY in warfare all the niceties of old-world tactics are fallen into
+contempt.  No word of outworks, ravelins, of mamelons, of counter-scarps,
+of glacis, fascines; none of the terms by means of which Vauban obscured
+his art, are even mentioned.  Armies fall to and blow such brains as they
+may have out of each other’s heads without so much as a salute.  And so
+of literature, your “few first words,” your “avant-propos,” your nice
+approaches to the reader, giving him beforehand some taste of what is to
+follow, have also fallen into disuse.  The man of genius (and in no age
+has self-dubbed genius called out so loud in every street, and been
+accepted at its own appraisement) stuffs you his epoch-making book full
+of the technicalities of some obscure or half-forgotten trade, and
+rattles on at once, sans introduction, twenty knots an hour, like a
+torpedo boat.  No preface, dedication, not even an apology _pro
+existentiâ ejus_ intervening betwixt the bewildered public and the full
+power of his wit.  A graceless way of doing things, and not comparable to
+the slow approach by “prefatory words,” “censura,” “dedication,” by means
+of which the writers of the past had half disarmed the critic ere he had
+read a line.  I like to fancy to myself the progress of a fight in days
+gone by, with marching, countermarching, manoeuvring, so to speak, for
+the weather-gauge, and then the general engagement all by the book of
+arithmetic, and squadrons going down like men upon a chessboard after
+nice calculation, and like gentlemen.
+
+Who, hidden in a wood, watching a nymph about to bathe, would care to see
+her strip off her “duds” like an umbrella-case, and bounce into the river
+like a water-rat?—a lawn upon the grass, a scarf hung on a bush, a
+petticoat rocked by the wind upon the sward, then the shy trying of the
+water with the naked feet, and lastly something flashing in the sun which
+you could hardly swear you had seen, so rapidly it passed into the
+stream, would most enchant the gaze of the rapt watcher hidden behind his
+tree.  And so of literature, wheedle me by degrees, your reader to your
+book, as did the giants of the past in graceful preface, dedication, or
+what do you call it, that got the readers, so to speak, into the book
+before they were aware.  It seems to me, a world all void of grace must
+needs be cruel, for cruelty and grace go not together, and perhaps the
+hearts of the pig-tailed, pipe-clayed generals of the past were not more
+hard than are the hearts of their tweed-clad descendants who now-a-days
+blow you a thousand savages to paradise, and then sit down to lunch.
+
+Let there be no mistake; the writer and the reader are sworn foes.  The
+writer labouring for bread, or hopes of fame, from idleness, from too
+much energy, or from that uncontrollable dance of St. Vitus in the
+muscles of the wrist which prompts so many men to write (the Lord knows
+why), works, blots, corrects, rewrites, revises, and improves; then
+publishes, and for the most part is incontinently damned.  Then comes the
+reader cavalierly, as the train shunts at Didcot, or puffs and snorts
+into Carlisle, and gingerly examining the book says it is rubbish, and
+that he wonders how people who should have something else to do, find
+time to spend their lives in writing trash.
+
+I take it that there is a modesty of mind as deep implanted in the soul
+of man as is the supergrafted post-Edenian modesty of the body; which
+latter, by the way, so soon is lost, restraints of custom or convention
+laid aside.
+
+Who that would strip his clothes off, and walk down Piccadilly, even if
+the day were warm (the police all drunk or absent), without some
+hesitation, and an announcement of his purpose, say, in the columns of
+the _Morning Post_?
+
+Therefore, why strip the soul stark naked to the public gaze without some
+hesitation and due interval, by means of which to make folk understand
+that which you write is what you think you feel; part of yourself, a
+part, moreover, which once given out can never be recalled?
+
+So of the sketches in this book, most of them treat of scenes seen in
+that magic period, youth, when things impress themselves on the
+imagination more sharply than in after years; and the scenes too have
+vanished; that is, the countries where they passed have all been changed,
+and now-a-days are full of barbed-wire fences, advertisements, and
+desolation, the desolation born of imperfect progress.  The people, too,
+I treat of, for the most part have disappeared; being born unfit for
+progress, it has passed over them, and their place is occupied by worthy
+men who cheat to better purpose, and more scientifically.  Therefore, I,
+writing as a man who has not only seen but lived with ghosts, may perhaps
+find pardon for this preface, for who would run in heavily and dance a
+hornpipe on the turf below which sleep the dead?  And if I am not
+pardoned for my hesitation, dislike, or call it what you will, to give
+these little sketches to the world without preamble, after my fashion, I
+care not overmuch.
+
+In the phantasmagoria we call the world, most things and men are ghosts,
+or at the best but ghosts of ghosts, so vaporous and unsubstantial that
+they scarcely cast a shadow on the grass.  That which is most abiding
+with us is the recollection of the past, and . . . hence this preface.
+
+                                                 R. B. CUNNINGHAME GRAHAM.
+
+
+
+
+_CONTENTS_
+
+                              _Page_
+_Cruz Alta_                        1
+_In a German Tramp_               85
+_The Gold Fish_                  103
+_A Hegira_                       119
+_Sidi Bu Zibbalà_                145
+_La Pulperia_                    163
+_Higginson’s Dream_              177
+_Calvary_                        189
+_A Pakeha_                       201
+_Victory_                        209
+_Rothenberger’s Wedding_         219
+_La Clemenza De Tito_            227
+_Sohail_                         235
+
+
+
+
+CRUZ ALTA
+
+
+Pasted into an old scrap-book, chiefly filled with newspaper cuttings
+from Texan and Mexican newspapers containing accounts of Indian fights,
+the prowess of different horses (notably of a celebrated “claybank,”
+which carried the mail-rider from El Paso to Oakville, Arizona), and
+interspersed with advertisements of strayed animals, pictures of Gauchos,
+Indians, Chilians, Brazilians, and Gambusinos, is an old coffee-coloured
+business card.  On it is set forth, that Francisco Cardozo de Carvallo is
+the possessor of a “Grande Armazem de Fazendas, ferragems, drojas,
+chapeos, miudezas, e objectos de fantasia e de modas.”
+
+All the above, “Com grande reduccao nos preços.”  Then occurs the
+significant advertença, “Mas A Dinheiro,” and the address Rua do
+Commercio, No. 77.—CRUZ ALTA.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+OFTEN on winter nights when all the air is filled with whirling leaves
+dashing against the panes, when through the house sweep gusts of wind
+making the passages unbearable with cold, the rooms disconsolate, and the
+whole place feel eerie and ghostlike as the trees creak, groan and
+labour, like a ship at sea, I take the scrap-book down.
+
+In it are many things more interesting by far to me at certain times than
+books or papers, or than the conversation of my valued friends; almost as
+great a consolation as is tobacco to a bruised mind; and then I turn the
+pages over with delight tinged with that melancholy which is the best
+part of remembrance.
+
+So amongst tags of poetry as Joaquim Miller’s lines “For those who fail,”
+the advertisement for my fox-terrier Jack, the “condemndest little
+buffler” the Texans called him, couched in the choicest of Castilian, and
+setting forth his attributes, colour and name, and offering five dollars
+to any one who would apprehend and take him to the Callejon del Espiritu
+Santo, Mexico, curious and striking outsides of match-boxes, one entire
+series illustrating the “Promessi Sposi”; of scraps, detailing news of
+Indian caciques long since dead, a lottery-ticket of the State of
+Louisiana, passes on “busted” railways, and the like, is this same
+coffee-coloured card.
+
+I cannot remember that I was a great dealer at the emporium, the glories
+of which the card sets forth, except for cigarettes and “Rapadura”; that
+is, raw sugar in a little cake done up in maize-leaves, matches, and an
+occasional glass of white Brazilian rum.
+
+Still during two long months the place stood to me in lieu of club, and
+in it I used to meet occasional German “Fazenderos,” merchants from
+Surucaba, and officers on the march from San Paulo to Rio Grande; and
+there I used to lounge, waiting for customers to buy a “Caballada” of
+some hundred horses, which a friend and I had brought with infinite
+labour from the plains of Uruguay.  Thinking upon the strange and curious
+types I used to meet, clad for the most part in loose black Turkish
+trousers, broad-brimmed felt hats kept in their place by a tasselled
+string beneath the chin, in real or sham vicuña ponchos, high
+patent-leather boots, sewn in patterns with red thread; upon the horses
+with silver saddles and reins, securely tied to posts outside the door,
+and on the ceaseless rattle of spurs upon the bare brick floors which
+made a sort of obligato accompaniment to the monotonous music of the
+guitar, full twenty years fall back.
+
+Yet still the flat-roofed town, capital of the district in Rio Grande
+known as Encima de la Sierra, the stopping-place for the great droves of
+mules which from the Banda Oriental and Entre Rios are driven to the
+annual fair at Surucaba; the stodgy Brazilian countrymen so different
+from the Gauchos of the River Plate; the negroes at that time slaves; the
+curious vegetation, and the feeling of being cut off from all the world,
+are fresh as yesterday.
+
+Had but the venture turned out well, no doubt I had forgotten it, but to
+have worked for four long months driving the horses all the day through
+country quite unknown to me, sitting the most part of each night upon my
+horse on guard, or riding slowly round and round the herd, eating jerked
+beef, and sleeping, often wet, upon the ground, to lose my money, has
+fixed the whole adventure on my memory for life.
+
+Failure alone is interesting.
+
+Successful generals with their hands scarce dry from the blood of
+half-armed foes; financiers, politicians; those who rise, authors whose
+works run to a dozen editions in a year: the men who go to colonies with
+or without the indispensable half-crown and come back rich, to these we
+give our greetings in the market-place; we make them knights, marking
+their children with the father’s bourgeois brand: we marvel at their
+fortune for a brief space, and make them doctors of civil law, exposing
+them during the process to be insulted by our undergraduates, then they
+drop out of recollection and become uninteresting, as nature formed their
+race.
+
+But those who fail after a glorious fashion, Raleigh, Cervantes,
+Chatterton, Camoens, Blake, Claverhouse, Lovelace, Alcibiades, Parnell,
+and the last unknown deck-hand who, diving overboard after a comrade,
+sinks without saving him: these interest us, at least they interest those
+who, cursed with imagination, are thereby doomed themselves to the same
+failure as their heroes were.  The world is to the unimaginative, for
+them are honours, titles, rank and ample waistbands; foolish phylacteries
+broad as trade union banners; their own esteem and death to sound of
+Bible leaves fluttered by sorrowing friends, with the sure hope of waking
+up immortal in a new world on the same pattern as the world that they
+have left.
+
+After a wretched passage down the coast, we touched at Rio, and in the
+Rua Direita, no doubt now called Rio Primero de Mayo or some other
+revolutionary date, we saw a Rio Grandense soldier on a fine black horse.
+As we were going to the River Plate to make our fortunes, my companion
+asked me what such a horse was worth, and where the Brazilian Government
+got their remounts.  I knew no horses of the kind were bred nearer than
+Rio Grande, or in Uruguay, and that a horse such as the trooper rode,
+might in the latter country be worth an ounce.  We learned in Rio that
+his price was eighty dollars, and immediately a golden future rose before
+our eyes.  What could be easier than in Uruguay, which I knew well and
+where I had many friends (now almost to a man dead in the revolutions or
+killed by rum), to buy the horses and drive them overland to the
+Brazilian capital?
+
+We were so confident of the soundness of our scheme that I believe we
+counted every hour till the boat put to sea.
+
+Not all the glories of the Tijuca with its view across the bay straight
+into fairyland, the red-roofed town, the myriad islets, the tall
+palm-tree avenue of Botafogo, the tropic trees and butterflies, and the
+whole wondrous panorama spread at our feet, contented us.
+
+During the voyage to the River Plate we planned the thing well out, and
+talked it over with our friends.  They, being mostly of our age, found it
+well reasoned, and envied us, they being due at banks and
+counting-houses, and other places where no chance like ours of making
+money, could be found.  Arrived in Buenos Ayres, a cursed chance called
+us to Bahia Blanca upon business, but though we had a journey of about a
+thousand miles to make through territory just wasted by the Indians and
+in which at almost every house a man or two lay dead, we counted it as
+nothing, for we well knew on our return our fortunes were assured.
+
+And so the autumn days upon the Arroyo de los Huesos seemed more glorious
+than autumn days in general, even in that climate perhaps the most
+exhilarating of the world.  Horses went better, “maté” was hotter in the
+mouth, the pulperia caña seemed more tolerable, and the “China” girls
+looked more desirable than usual, even to philosophers who had their
+fortunes almost as good as made.
+
+Our business in the province of Buenos Ayres done, and by this time I
+have forgotten what it was, we sold our horses, some of the best I ever
+saw in South America, for whatever they would fetch, and in a week found
+ourselves in Durazno, a little town in Uruguay, where in the camps
+surrounding, horses and mules were cheap.
+
+About a league outside the town, and in a wooded elbow of the river Yi,
+lived our friend Don Guillermo.  I myself years before had helped to
+build his house; and in and out of season, no matter if I arrived upon a
+“pingo” shining with silver gear, or on a “mancaron” with an old saddle
+topped by a ragged sheepskin, I was a welcome guest.
+
+Ah! Don Guillermo, you and your brother Don Tomas rise also through the
+mist of twenty years.
+
+Catholics, Scotchmen, and gentlemen, kindly and hospitable, bold riders
+and yet so religious that, though it must have been a purgatory to them
+as horsemen, they used to trudge on foot to mass on Sunday, swimming the
+Yi when it was flooded, with their clothes and missals on their heads,
+may God have pardoned you.
+
+Not that the sins of either of them could have been great, or of the kind
+but that the briefest sojourn in purgatory should not have wiped them
+out.
+
+To those rare Catholic families in Scotland an old-world flavour clings.
+When Knox and that “lewid monk,” the Regent Murray, all agog for progress
+and so-called purer worship, pestered and bothered Scotland into a change
+of faith, those few who clung to Catholicism seemed to become
+repositories of the traditions of an older world.
+
+Heaven and hell, no resting-place for the weaker souls between, have
+rendered Scotland a hard place for the ordinary man who wants his
+purgatory, even if by another name.  Surely our Scottish theologians had
+done well, although they heated up our hell like a glass furnace, to
+leave us purgatory; that is if “Glesca” be not purgatory enough even for
+those who, like North Britons, have no doubt on any subject either in
+heaven above, or in the earth below.  So to the house of Don
+Guillermo—even the name has now escaped me, though I see it, mud-built
+and thatched with “paja,” standing on a little sandy hill, surrounded on
+two sides by wood, on the others looking straight out upon the open
+“camp”—hot foot we came.  Riding upon two strayed horses known as
+“ajenos,” bought for a dollar each in Durazno, we arrived, carrying our
+scanty property in saddle-bags, rode to the door, called out “Hail,
+Mary!” after the fashion of the country and in deference to the religion
+of our hosts, which was itself of so sincere a caste that every one
+attempted to conform to it, as far as possible, whilst in their house;
+received the answer “Without sin conceived”; got off, and straightway
+launched into a discussion of our plan.
+
+Assembled in the house were Wycherley, Harrington and Trevelyan, and
+other commentators, whose names have slipped my mind.  Some were
+“estancieros,” that is cattle or sheep farmers; others again were
+loafers, all mostly men of education, with the exception of Newfoundland
+Jack, a sailor, who had left the navy in a hurry, after some peccadillo,
+but who, once in the camp, took a high place amongst men, by his
+knowledge of splicing, making turks’ heads, and generally applying all
+his acquired sea-lore to saddlery, and from a trick he had of forcing
+home his arguments with a short knife, the handle fixed on with a raw
+cow’s tail, and which in using he threw from hand to hand, and generally
+succeeded in burying deeply in his opponent’s chest.  Our friends all
+liked the scheme, pronounced it practical and businesslike, and, to show
+goodwill, despatched a boy to town to bring a demijohn of caña back at
+full speed, instructing him to put it down to our account, not to delay
+upon the way, and to be careful no one stole it at the crossing of the
+Yi.
+
+Long we sat talking, waiting for the advent of the boy, till at last,
+seeing he would not come that night, and a thick mist rising up from the
+river having warned us that the night was wearing on, we spread our
+saddles on the floor, and went to sleep.  At daybreak, cold and
+miserable, the boy appeared, bringing the caña in a demijohn, and to our
+questions said he had passed the river, hit the “rincon,” and heard the
+dogs bark in the mist; but after trying for an hour could never find the
+house.  Then, thinking that his horse might know the way, laid down the
+reins, and the horse took him straight to the other horses, who, being
+startled at the sudden apparition of their friend saddled and mounted in
+the dead of night, vanished like spectres into the thickest of the fog.
+Then tired of riding, after an hour or two, took off his saddle, and had
+passed the night, as it appeared at daybreak, not a quarter of a mile
+away.
+
+Between the town and Don Guillermo’s house there ran a river called the
+Yi; just at the pass a “balsa” plied, drawn over by stout ropes.  On
+either side the “pass” stood pulperias, that is camp-stores, where gin
+and sardines, Vino Carlon, Yerba, and all the necessaries of frontier
+life could be procured.  Horses and cattle, mules and troops of sheep
+passed all the day, and gamblers plied their trade, whilst in some huts
+girls, known as “Chinas,” watched the passers-by, loitering in deshabille
+before their mare’s hide doors, singing “cielitos,” or the “gato,” to the
+accompaniment of a guitar, or merely shouting to the stranger, “Che, si
+quieres cosa buena vente por acá.”  A half-Arcadian, half-Corinthian
+place the crossing was; fights there were frequent, and a “Guapeton,”
+that is, a pretty handler of his knife, once kept things lively for a
+month or two, challenging all the passers-by to fight, till luckily a
+Brazilian, going to the town, put things in order with an iron-handled
+whip.
+
+The owner of the “balsa,” one Eduardo Peña, cherished a half-romantic,
+half-antagonistic friendship for Don Guillermo, speaking of him as “muy
+Catolico,” admiring his fine seat upon a horse, and yet not understanding
+in the least the qualities which made him a man of mark in all the
+“pagos” from the Porongos to the Arazati.  “Catolico,” with Peña, was but
+a matter of pure faith, and going to mass a work of supererogation; and
+conduct such as the eschewal of the China ladies at the pass, with
+abstinence from all excess in square-faced gin, dislike to monté, even
+with “Sota en la puerta,” and the adversary with all his money staked
+upon another card, seemed to him bigotry; for bigotry is after all not so
+much mere excess of faith or want of tolerance, but a neglect to fall
+into the vices of our friends.  So, mounted on our two “agenos,” one a
+jibber, the other a kicker at the stirrup, and extremely hard to mount,
+we scoured the land.  Gauchos, Brazilians, negroes, troperos,
+cattle-farmers, each man in the whole “pago” had at least a horse to
+sell.  Singly, driven, led, pulled unwillingly along in raw-hide ropes,
+and sitting back like lapdogs walking in the park, the horses came.  We
+bought them all after much bargaining, and then began to hunt about at
+farms, estancias, and potreros, and to inquire on every side where horses
+could be got.  All the “dead beats,” “sancochos,” buck-jumpers, wall-eyed
+and broken-backed, we passed in a review.  An English sailor rode up to
+the place, dressed as a Gaucho, speaking but little English, with a
+west-country twang.  He, too, had horses, which we bought, and the deal
+over, launched into the story of his life.
+
+It seemed that he had left a man-of-war some fifteen years ago, married a
+native girl and settled down, and for ten years had never met an
+Englishman.  In English, still a sailor, but in Spanish, a gentleman,
+courteous and civil, and fit to take his place with any one; full of fine
+compliments, and yet a horse-coper; selling us three good horses, and
+one, that the first time I mounted him kicked like a zebra, although our
+friend had warranted him quite free from vice, well bitted, and the one
+horse he had which he reserved in general for the saddle of his wife.
+
+In a few days we had collected sixty or seventy, and to make all
+complete, a man arrived, saying that specially on our account, thirteen
+wild horses, or horses that had run wild, had been enclosed.  He offered
+them on special terms, and we, saddling at once, rode twelve or thirteen
+leagues to see them; and after crossing a river, wading through a swamp,
+and winding in and out through a thick wood for several miles, we reached
+his house.  There, in a strong corral, the horses were, wild-eyed and
+furious, tails sweeping to the ground, manes to their knees, sweating
+with fear, and trembling if any one came near.  One was a piebald dun,
+about eight years of age, curly all over like a poodle; one Pampa, that
+is, black with a head as if it had been painted white to the ears; behind
+them, coal-black down to his feet, which, curiously enough, were all four
+white.  A third, Overo Azulejo, slate-coloured and white; he was of
+special interest, for he had twisted in his mane a large iron spur, and
+underneath a lump as large as an apple, where the spur had bumped upon
+his neck for years during his gallop through the woods and plains.  Each
+horse had some peculiarity, most had been tame at one time, and were
+therefore more to be dreaded than if they had been never mounted in their
+lives.
+
+As it was late when we arrived we tied our horses up and found a ball in
+progress at the house.  Braulio Islas was the owner’s name, a man of some
+position in the land, young and unmarried, and having passed some years
+of his life in Monte Video, where, as is usual, he had become a doctor
+either of law or medicine; but the life had not allured him, and he had
+drifted back to the country, where he lived, half as a Gaucho, half as a
+“Dotorcito,” riding a wild horse as he were part of him, and yet having a
+few old books, quoting dog Latin, and in the interim studying
+international law, after the fashion of the semi-educated in the River
+Plate.  Fastening our horses to long twisted green-hide ropes, we passed
+into the house.  “Carne con cuero” (meat cooked with the hide) was
+roasting near the front-door on a great fire of bones.  Around it men sat
+drinking maté, smoking and talking, whilst tame ostriches peered into the
+fire and snapped up anything within their reach; dogs without hair,
+looking like pigs, ran to and fro, horses were tied to every post,
+fire-flies darted about the trees; and, above all, the notes, sung in a
+high falsetto voice of a most lamentable Paraguayan “triste,” quavered in
+the night air and set the dogs a-barking, when all the company at stated
+intervals took up the refrain, and chanted hoarsely or shrilly of the
+hardships passed by Lopez in his great camp at Pirayú.
+
+Under the straw-thatched sheds whole cows and sheep were hung up; and
+every one, when he felt hungry, cut a collop off and cooked it in the
+embers, for in those days meat had no price, and if you came up hungry to
+a house a man would say: “There is a lazo, and the cattle are feeding in
+a hollow half a league away.”
+
+A harp, two cracked guitars, the strings repaired with strips of hide,
+and an accordion, comprised the band.  The girls sat in a row, upon
+rush-seated chairs, and on the walls were ranged either great bowls of
+grease in which wicks floated, or homemade candles fixed on to nails,
+which left them free to gutter on the dancers’ heads.  The men lounged at
+the door, booted and spurred, and now and then one walked up to the
+girls, selected one, and silently began to dance a Spanish valse, slowly
+and scarcely moving from the place, the hands stretched out in front, and
+the girl with her head upon his shoulder, eyes fast closed and looking
+like a person in a trance.  And as they danced the musicians broke into a
+harsh, wild song, the dancers’ spurs rattled and jingled on the floor,
+and through the unglazed and open windows a shrill fierce neigh floated
+into the room from the wild horses shut in the corral.  “Dulces,” that
+is, those sweetmeats made from the yolk of eggs, from almonds, and from
+nuts, and flavoured with cinnamon and caraways brought by the Moors to
+Spain, and taken by the Spaniards to the Indies, with sticky cakes, and
+vino seco circulated amongst the female guests.  The men drank gin, ate
+bread (a delicacy in the far-off “camp”), or sipped their maté, which, in
+its little gourds and silver tube, gave them the appearance of smoking
+some strange kind of pipe.
+
+“Que bailen los Ingleses,” and we had to acquit ourselves as best we
+could, dancing a “pericon,” as we imagined it, waving our handkerchiefs
+about to the delight of all the lookers-on.  Fashion decreed that, the
+dance over, the “cavalier” presented his handkerchief to the girl with
+whom he danced.  I having a bad cold saw with regret my new silk
+handkerchief pass to the hand of a mulatto girl, and having asked her for
+her own as a remembrance of her beauty and herself, received a home-made
+cotton cloth, stiff as a piece of leather, and with meshes like a sack.
+
+Leaving the dance, as Braulio Islas said, as more “conformable” to
+Gauchos than to serious men we started bargaining.  After much talking we
+agreed to take the horses for three dollars each, upon condition that in
+the morning Islas and all his men should help us drive a league or two
+upon the road.  This settled, and the money duly paid, we went to bed,
+that is, lay down upon our saddles under the “galpon.”  To early morning
+the guitars went on, and rising just about day-break we found the
+revellers saddling their horses to depart in peace.  We learned with
+pleasure there had been no fight, and then after a maté walked down to
+the corral.  Knowing it was impossible to drive the horses singly, after
+much labour we coupled them in twos.  I mounted one of them, and to my
+surprise, he did not buck, but after three or four plunges went quietly,
+and we let the others out.  The bars were scarcely down when they all
+scattered, and made off into the woods.  Luckily all the drivers were at
+hand, and after three or four hours’ hard galloping we got them back, all
+except one who never reappeared; and late in the evening reached Don
+Guillermo’s house and let our horses into a paddock fenced with strong
+posts of ñandubay or Tala and bound together with pieces of raw hide.
+
+So for a week or two we passed our lives, collecting horses of every
+shade and hue, wild, tame and bagualon, that is, neither quite wild nor
+tame, and then, before starting, had to go to “La Justicia” to get a
+passport with their attributes and marks.
+
+I found the Alcalde, one Quintin Perez, sitting at his door, softening a
+piece of hide by beating on it with a heavy mallet of ñandubay.  He could
+not read, but was so far advanced towards culture as to be able to sign
+his name and rubricate.  His rubric was most elaborate, and he informed
+me that a signature was good, but that he thought a rubric more
+authentic.  Though he could not decipher the document I brought for
+signature, he scrutinized the horses’ marks, all neatly painted in the
+margin, discussed each one of them, and found out instantly some were
+from distant “pagos,” and on this account, before the signature or rubric
+was appended, in addition to the usual fee, I was obliged to “speak a
+little English to him,” which in the River Plate is used to signify the
+taking and receiving of that conscience money which causes the affairs of
+justice to move pleasantly for all concerned.  Meanwhile my partner had
+gone to town (Durazno) to arrange about the revision of the passport with
+the chief authorities.  Nothing moved quickly at that time in Uruguay; so
+after waiting one or two days in town, without a word, he quietly let
+loose his horse in a by-street at night to save his keep, and casting
+about where he should leave his saddle, thought that the cloak-room of
+the railway-station might be safe, because the station-master was an
+Englishman.  The saddle, having silver stirrups and good saddle-cloths
+and silver-mounted reins and bit, was worth more than the horse, which,
+being a stray, he had bought for a couple of dollars, and was not anxious
+to retain.
+
+After a day or two of talk, and “speaking English,” he wanted his saddle,
+and going to the station found it gone.  Not being up at that time in the
+ways of the Republic, he informed the police, waited a day, then two
+days, and found nothing done.  Luckily, just at that time, I came to town
+and asked him if he had offered a reward.  Hearing he had not, we went
+down to see the Commissary of Police, and found him sitting in his office
+training two cocks to fight.  A rustle and the slamming of a door just
+marked the hurried exit of a lady, who must have been assisting at the
+main.  Compliments duly passed, cigarettes lighted and maté circulating,
+“served” by a negro soldier in a ragged uniform with iron spurs upon his
+naked feet who stood attention every time he passed the gourd in which
+the maté is contained to either of us, we plunged into our talk.
+
+“Ten dollars, Comissario.”
+
+“No, señor, fifteen, and a slight gratification to the man who brings the
+saddle back.”
+
+We settled at thirteen, and then the Commissary winked slowly, and
+saying, “This is not Europe,” asked for a little something for himself,
+received it, and calling to the negro, said—
+
+“Tio Gancho, get at once to horse, take with you one or two men, and
+scour the ‘pago’ till you bring this saddle back.  See that you find it,
+or I will have your thumbs both broken as your toes are, by San Edovige
+and by the Mother of our Lord.”
+
+A look at Tio Gancho showed both his big toes had been broken when a
+slave in Brazil, either to stop him walking, or, as the Commissary
+thought, to help him to catch the stirrup, for he was a noted rider of a
+redomon. {20}
+
+Duly next day the saddle was brought (so said the Commissary) into the
+light of justice, and it then appeared one of the silver stirrups had
+been lost.  The Commissary was much annoyed, reproached his men, being,
+as he said he was: “Un hombre muy honrado.”  After thinking the case well
+out, he returned me two and a half dollars out of the thirteen I had
+agreed to pay.  Honour no doubt was satisfied upon both sides, and a new
+silver stirrup cost ten dollars at the least; but as the saddle was well
+worth sixty, we parted friends.  That is, we should have parted so had
+not the “Hombre muy honrado” had another card to play.
+
+“How long do you want the thief detained?” he asked.  And we, thinking to
+be magnanimous and to impress him with our liberal ideas, said loftily—
+
+“A month will do.”
+
+“All right,” he answered, “then I must trouble you for thirty dollars
+more for the man’s maintenance, and for the gaoler’s fee.”  This was a
+stopper over all, and I said instantly—
+
+“Being ignorant of your laws, perhaps we have looked at the man’s offence
+too hardly, a week will do.”  So after paying five dollars down, we
+invited the Commissary to drink, and left him well knowing that we should
+not be out of sight before the man would be released, and the five
+dollars be applied strictly towards the up-keep of “justice” in the
+Partido of the Yi.  Months afterwards I heard the culprit worked two days
+cutting down weeds with a machete in the public square; then, tired of
+it, being “un hombre de á caballo,” had volunteered to join the army, was
+received into the ranks, and in a few weeks’ time rose to be sergeant,
+for he could sign his name.
+
+All being ready, and some men (one a young Frenchman born in the place)
+being found with difficulty, the usual revolution having drained off the
+able-bodied men, we made all ready for the start.  We bid good-bye to Don
+Guillermo, and to Don Tomas, giving them as an addition to their library
+(which consisted of some lives of saints and an odd volume of “el culto
+al Falo,” which was in much request), our only book the “Feathered
+Arrow,” either by Aimard or by Gerstaeker, and mounting early in the
+morning after some trouble with the wilder of our beasts, we took the
+road.
+
+For the first few leagues Don Guillermo rode with us, and then, after a
+smoke, bade us goodbye and rode away; his tall, lithe figure dressed in
+loose black merino trousers tucked into his boots, hat tied beneath his
+chin, and Pampa poncho, fading out of sight, and by degrees the motion of
+his right arm touching his horse up, Gaucho fashion, at every step, grew
+slower, then stood still, and lastly vanished with the swaying figure of
+the rider, out of sight.  Upon what Pampa he now gallops is to me
+unknown, or whether, where he is, horses accompany him; but I would fain
+believe it, for a heaven on foot would not be heaven to him; but I still
+see him as he disappeared that day swaying to every motion of his horse
+as they had been one flesh.  “Adios, Don Guillermo,” or perhaps “hasta
+luego,” you and your brother Don Tomas, your hospitable shanty, and your
+three large cats, “Yanish” and “Yanquetruz,” with one whose name I cannot
+now recall, are with me often as I think on times gone by; and still
+to-day (if it yet stands), upon the darkest night I could take horse
+outside Durazno, cross the Yi, not by the “balsa,” but at the ford below,
+and ride without a word to any one straight to your house.
+
+Days followed one another, and nights still caught us upon horseback,
+driving or rounding up our horses, and nothing interested us but that “el
+Pangare” was lame; “el Gargantillo” looked a little thin, or that “el
+Zaino de la hacinda” was missing in the morning from the troop.  Rivers
+we passed, the Paso de los Toros, where the horses grouped together on a
+little beach of stones refused to face the stream.  Then sending out a
+yoke of oxen to swim first, we pressed on them, and made them plunge, and
+kept dead silence, whilst a naked man upon the other bank called to them
+and whistled in a minor key; for horses swimming, so the Gauchos say, see
+nothing, and head straight for a voice if it calls soothingly.  And
+whilst they swam, men in canoes lay down the stream to stop them
+drifting, and others swimming by their side splashed water in their faces
+if they tried to turn.  The sun beat on the waste calling out the scent
+of flowers; kingfishers fluttered on the water’s edge, herons stood
+motionless, great vultures circled overhead, and all went well till, at
+the middle of the stream, a favourite grey roan mare put up her head and
+snorted, beat the water with her feet, and then sank slowly, standing
+quite upright as she disappeared.
+
+Mountains and plains we passed, and rivers fringed with thick, hard
+thorny woods; we sweltered in the sun, sat shivering on our horses during
+the watches of the night, slept fitfully by turns at the camp fire, ate
+“charqui” and drank maté, and by degrees passing the Paso de los
+Novillos, San Fructuoso, and the foot-hills of Haedo and the Cuchilla de
+Peralta with its twin pulperias, we emerged on to the plain, which,
+broken here and there by rivers, slopes toward the southern frontier of
+Brazil.  But as we had been short-handed from the first, our “caballada”
+had got into bad ways.  A nothing startled them, and the malign example
+of the group of wildlings brought from Braulio Islas, led them astray,
+and once or twice they separated and gave us hours of work to bring them
+back.  Now as a “caballada” which has once bolted is in the future easily
+disposed to run, we gave strict orders no one was to get off, though for
+a moment, without hobbling his horse.
+
+Camped one cold morning on a river, not far from Brazil, and huddled
+round a fire, cooking some sausages, flavoured with Chile pepper, over a
+fire of leaves, one of our men who had been on horseback watching all the
+night, drew near the fire, and getting off, fastened his reins to a
+heavy-handled whip, and squatted on them, as he tried to warm his hands.
+My horse, unsaddled, was fastened by a lasso to a heavy stone, and
+luckily my partner and the rest all had their horses well secured, for a
+“coati” dived with a splash after a fish into the river.  In a moment the
+horses all took fright, and separating, dashed to the open country with
+heads and tails erect, snorting and kicking, and left us looking in
+despair, whilst the horse with the whip fastened to the reins joined
+them, and mine, tied to the stone, plunged furiously, but gave me time to
+catch him, and mounting barebacked, for full five hours we rode, and
+about nightfall brought the “caballada” back to the camp, and driving
+them into an elbow of the river, lighted great fires across the mouth of
+it, and went to sleep, taking it conscientiously in turns to curse the
+man who let his horse escape.
+
+Five leagues or so upon the road the frontier lay, and here the Brazilian
+Government had guards, but we being business men smuggled our horses over
+in the night, led by a noted smuggler, who took us by devious paths,
+through a thick wood, to a ford known to him, only just practicable, and
+this we passed swimming and wading, and struggling through the mud.  The
+river wound about through beds of reeds, trees known as “sarandis” grew
+thickly on the banks, and as we passed “carpinchos” {26} snorted; great
+fish leaped into the air and fell with a resounding crash into the
+stream, and in the trees was heard the scream of vultures, as frightened
+by our passage they rose and weltered heavily through the thick wood.  By
+morning we were safe into Brazil, passing a league or more through a
+thick cane-brake, where we left several of our best horses, as to pursue
+them when they straggled was impossible without running the risk of
+losing all the rest.  The crossing of the river had brought us to another
+world.  As at Carlisle and Gretna in the old days, or as at Tuy and
+Valenza even to-day, the river had set a barrier between the peoples as
+it had been ten miles instead of a few hundred yards in width.
+Certainly, on the Banda Oriental, especially in the department of
+Tacuarembò, many Brazilians had emigrated and settled there, but living
+amongst the Gaucho population, in a measure they had been forced to
+conform to the customs of the land.  That is, they practised hospitality
+after the Gaucho fashion, taking no money from the wayfaring man for a
+piece of beef; they lent a horse, usually the worst they had, if one came
+to their house with one’s horse tired; their women showed themselves
+
+occasionally; and not being able to hold slaves, they were obliged to
+adopt a different tone to men in general than that they practised in the
+Empire of Brazil.  But in the time of which I write, in their own country
+they still carried swords, slaves trotted after the rich “fazendero’s”
+horse, the women of the family never sat down to table with the men, and
+if a stranger chanced to call on business at their house, they were as
+jealously kept from his eyes as they had all been Turks.
+
+The “Fazenda” houses had great iron-studded doors, often a moat, and not
+infrequently a rusty cannon, though generally dismounted, and a relic of
+bygone time.  The traveller fared, as a general rule, much worse than in
+the Banda Oriental, for save at the large cattle-farms it was impossible
+to buy a piece of meat.  Admitted to the house, one rarely passed beyond
+the guest-chamber, a room with four bare white-washed walls; having for
+furniture a narrow hard-wood table with wrought-iron supports between its
+legs; chairs cut apparently out of the solid block, and a tin bucket or a
+large gourd in the corner, with drinking-water; so that one’s sojourn at
+the place was generally brief, and one’s departure a relief to all
+concerned.  Still on the frontier the Gaucho influence made itself a
+little felt, and people were not so inhospitable as they were further in
+the interior of the land.  Two or three leagues beyond the pass there was
+a little town called “Don Pedrito,” towards which we made; but a
+“Pampero,” whistling from the south, forced us to camp upon a stream
+known as the “Poncho Verde,” where, in the forties, Garibaldi was
+reported to have fought.
+
+Wet to the skin and without food, we saw a fazenda not a mile away, rode
+up to it, and for a wonder were asked inside, had dinner in the
+guest-chamber, the owner sitting but not eating with us; the black
+Brazilian beans and bacon carried in pompously by three or four stalwart
+slaves, who puffed and sweated, trod on each other’s naked toes, and
+generally behaved as they had been carrying sacks of corn aboard a ship,
+only that in this instance no one stood in the gangway with a whip.  Much
+did the conversation run on politics; upon “A Guerra dos Farapos,” which
+it appeared had riven the country in twain what time our host was young.
+Farapo means a rag, and the Republicans of fifty years ago in Rio Grande
+had adopted the device after the fashion of “Les gueux.”  Long did they
+fight, and our host said: “Praise to God, infructuously,” for how could
+men who wore moustaches and full beards be compared to those who, like
+our host himself, wore whiskers carefully trimmed in the style of those
+which at the same epoch in our country were the trade-mark of the Iron
+Duke?  Elective kings, for so the old “conservador” termed presidents,
+did not find favour in his eyes; and in religion too the “farapos” were
+seriously astray.  They held the doctrine that all creeds should be
+allowed; which I once held myself, but now incline to the belief that a
+religion and a name should be bestowed at baptism, and that it should be
+constituted heresy of the worst kind, and punishable by a fine, to change
+or palter with either the name or the religion which our fathers have
+bestowed.
+
+Politics over, we fell a-talking upon other lands; on Europe and England,
+Portugal, and as to whether “Rondon” was larger than Pelotas, or matters
+of that sort.  Then our host inquired if in “Rondon” we did not use “la
+bosa,” and I not taking the thing up, he rose and stretching out his
+hands, set them revolving like a saw, and I then saw our supposed
+national pastime was what he meant; and told him that it was practised,
+held in repute, and marked us out as a people set apart; and that our
+greatness was largely founded on the exercise he had endeavoured to
+depict.  We bade farewell, not having seen a woman, even a negress, about
+the place; but as we left, a rustling at the door showed that the
+snuff-and-butter-coloured sex had been observing us after the fashion
+practised in Morocco and in houses in the East.  The hospitable
+“conservador” sent down a slave with a great basket full of oranges; and
+seated at the camp we ate at least three dozen, whilst the man waited
+patiently to take the basket back.
+
+Night caught us in the open “camp,” a south wind blowing, and the drops
+congealing as they fell.  Three of us muffled in ponchos rode round the
+horses, whilst the others crouched at the fire, and midnight come, the
+riders rode to the fire, and stretched on the wet mud slept fitfully,
+whilst the others took their place.  Day came at last; and miserable we
+looked, wet, cold, and hungry, the fire black out, matches all damp, and
+nothing else to do but march till the sun rose and made life tolerable.
+Arrived at a small rancho we got off, and found the owner was a Spaniard
+from Navarre, married to a Brazilian woman.  In mongrel Portuguese he
+bade us welcome; said he was no Brazilian, and that his house was ours,
+and hearing Spanish brightened up, and said in broken Spanish, mixed with
+Portuguese, that he could never learn that language, though he had passed
+a lifetime in the place.  The country pleased him, and though he had an
+orange garden of some three acres in extent, though palms, mameyes and
+bananas grew around his door, he mourned for chestnuts, which he
+remembered in his youth, and said he recollected eating them whilst in
+Navarre, and that they were better than all the fruit of all Brazil;
+thinking, like Naaman, that Abana and Pharpar were better than all the
+waters of Israel, or rivers of Damascus; or perhaps moved in some
+mysterious way by the remembrance of the chestnut forests, the old grey
+stone-roofed houses, and the wind whistling through the pine woods of
+some wild valley of Navarre.  At the old Spaniard’s house a difficulty
+cropped up with our men.  I having told a man to catch a horse which
+looked a little wild, he answered he was not a horse-breaker, and I might
+ride the beast myself.  I promptly did so, and asked him if he knew what
+a wild horse was, and if it was not true that horses which could be
+saddled without tying their hind legs were tame, and the rest laughing at
+him, he drew his knife, and running at me, found himself looking down the
+barrel of a pistol which my partner with some forethought had produced.
+This brought things to a crisis, and they all left us, with a hundred
+horses on our hands.  Several Brazilians having volunteered, we took
+them, bought a tame horse accustomed to carry packs, procured a bullock,
+had it killed, and the meat “jerked”; and making bags out of the hide,
+filled them with food, for, as the Spaniard said, “in the country you
+intend to cross you might as well be amongst Moors, for even money will
+not serve to get a piece of beef.”  A kindly soul the Spaniard, his name
+has long escaped me, still he was interesting as but the truly ignorant
+can ever be.  The world to him was a great mystery, as it is even to
+those who know much more than he; but all the little landmarks of the
+narrow boundaries of his life he had by heart; and they sufficed him, as
+the great world itself cannot suffice those who, by living in its
+current, see its muddiness.
+
+So one day told another, and each night found us on horseback riding
+round the drove.  Through forest, over baking plain, up mountain paths,
+through marshes, splashing to the saddle-flaps, by lone “fazendas,” and
+again through herds of cattle dotting the plain for miles, we took our
+way.  Little straw huts, each with a horse tied day and night before
+them, were our fairway marks.  Day followed night without adventure but
+when a horse suddenly threw its rider and a Brazilian peon uncoiled his
+lasso, and with a jangling of spurs against the stirrups, sprang into
+life, and in a moment the long snaky rope flew through the air and
+settled round the runaway just underneath his ears.  Once in a clearing,
+as we plodded on, climbing the last barrier of the mountain range, to
+emerge upon the district called “Encima de la Sierra,” a deer appeared
+jumping into the air, and coming down again on the same spot repeatedly,
+the Brazilians said that it was fighting with a snake, for “God has given
+such instinct to those beasts that they attack and kill all snakes,
+knowing that they are enemies of man.” {32}  A scheme of the creation
+which, if held in its entirety, shows curious lacunæ in the Creator’s
+mind, only to be bridged over by that faith which in itself makes all men
+equal, that is, of course, when they experience it and recognize its
+charm.  So on a day we crossed the hills, rode through a wood, and came
+out on a plain at the far end of which a little town appeared.
+
+For about ten leagues in circumference the plain stretched out, walled in
+with woods, which here and there jutted out into it, forming islands and
+peninsulas.  The flat-roofed town straggled along three flat and sandy
+streets; the little plaza, planted with mameyes and paraiso trees, served
+as a lounging-place by day, by night a caravanserai for negroes; in time
+of rain the streets were turned to streams, and poured their water into
+the plaza, which became a lake.  At the west corner of the square was
+situated Cardozo’s store, the chief emporium, mart, and meeting-place
+(after the barber’s and the chemist’s) of the whole town.  Two languid
+and yellow, hermaphroditic young Brazilians dressed in alpaca coats,
+white trousers, and patent leather boots dispensed the wares, whilst
+negroes ran about rolling in casks of flour, hogsheads of sugar, and
+bales of black tobacco from Bahia, or from Maranhão.  Such exterior
+graces did the little town of the High Cross exhibit to us, wearied with
+the baking days and freezing nights of the last month’s campaign.
+Whether some Jesuit in the days gone by, when missionaries stood up
+before their catechumens unsustained by Gatling guns, sheltered but by a
+rude cross in their hands and their meek lives, had named the place, in
+commemoration of some saving act of grace done by Jehovah in the
+conversion of the heathen, none can tell.  It may be that the Rood set up
+on high was but a landmark, or again to mark a frontier line against the
+heathen to the north, or yet it may have been the grave of some Paulista,
+who in his foray against the Jesuits in Paraguay died here on his return,
+whilst driving on before him a herd of converts to become slaves in far
+San Paulo, to the greater glory of the Lord.  All these things may have
+been, or none of them; but the quiet sleepy place, the forests with their
+parrots and macaws, their herds of peccaries, their bands of screaming
+monkeys, the bright-striped tiger-cats, the armadillos, coatis,
+capibarás, and gorgeous flaming “seibos,” all intertwined by ropes of
+living cordage of lianas, and the supreme content of all the dwellers in
+the district, with God, themselves, their country, and their lives, still
+after twenty years is fresh, and stirs me, as the memory of the Pacific
+stirs a reclaimed “beach-comber” over his grog, and makes him say, “I
+never should have left them islands, for a man was happy in ’em, living
+on the beach.”
+
+To this commercial centre (centro do commercio) we were advised to go,
+and there I rode, leaving my partner with the peons riding round the
+caballada upon the plains.  Dressed as I was in the clothes worn by the
+Gauchos of the Banda Oriental, a hat tied underneath the chin with a
+black cord, a vicuña poncho, and armed with large resounding silver
+spurs, I made a blot of colour in Cardozo’s shop amongst the quietly
+dressed Brazilians, who, though they were some of the smartest men in
+South America upon a horse, were always clad in sober-coloured raiment,
+wore ordinary store-cut trousers, and had their feet endued with all the
+graces of a five-dollar elastic-sided boot.
+
+Half-an-hour’s talk with the chief partner shattered all our plans.  It
+then appeared that to take horses on to Rio was impossible, the country,
+after San Paulo, being one dense forest, and even if the horses stood the
+change of climate, the trip would take a year, thus running off with any
+profit which we might expect.  Moreover, it appeared that mules were in
+demand throughout Brazil, but horses, till past San Paulo, five hundred
+miles ahead, but little valued, and almost as cheap, though much inferior
+in breed to those bred on the plains of Uruguay.  He further told us to
+lose not a day in teaching all the horses to eat salt, for without that
+they would not live a month, as once the range of mountains passed
+between Cruz Alta and the plains, no horse or mule could live without its
+three months’ ration of rock-salt; there being in the pasture some malign
+quality which salt alone could cure.  Naturally he had the cheapest salt
+in the whole town, and as our horses were by this time so thin that it
+was quite impossible to take them further without rest, they having been
+a month upon the road, we set about to find an enclosed pasture where we
+could let them feed.
+
+Xavier Fernandez, a retired slave- and mule-dealer, was the man on whom
+by accident we fell.  Riding about the plain disconsolately, like Arabs
+changing their pastures, and with our horses feeding near a little pond,
+we met him.  An old straw hat, bed-ticking trousers, and with his naked
+feet shoved into slippers of carpindo leather, and an iron spur attached
+to one of them and hanging down at least an inch below his heel, mounted
+upon a mule saddled with the iron-framed Brazilian saddle, with the
+addition of a crupper, a thing strange to our eyes, accustomed to the
+wild horses of the plains, he did not look the type of “landed
+gentleman,” but such he was, owner of flocks and herds, and, in
+particular, of a well-fenced pasture, enclosing about two leagues of
+land.
+
+After much talk of things in general, of politics, and of the revolution
+in progress in the republic we had left, upon our folly in bringing
+horses, which could go no further into the interior, and of the money we
+should have made had we brought “bestas,” that is, mules, we agreed to
+pay him so much a month for the use of his fenced pasture, and for our
+maintenance during the time we stayed.  Leaving the horses feeding,
+watched by the men, we rode to see the place.  Upon the way Xavier
+imparted much of history, a good deal of his lore, and curious local
+information about Cruz Alta, duly distorted, as befits a reputable man,
+through the perspective of his predilections, politics, faith, opinions,
+and general view of life.
+
+We learned that once Cruz Alta was a most important place, that
+six-and-thirty thousand mules used to be wintered there, and then in
+spring moved on to the great fair at Surucuba in the Sertão, that is the
+forest district of San Paulo, and then sold to the merchants from the
+upper districts of Brazil.  But of late years the number had been much
+reduced, and then stood at about twelve thousand.  This he set down to
+the accursed steamboats which took them up the coast, to the continual
+fighting in the state of Uruguay, and generally to the degeneration which
+he thought he saw in man.  In the heyday of the prosperity of the place
+“gold flowed from every hand,” so much so, that even “as mulheres da
+vida” kept their accounts in ounces; but now money was scarce, and
+business done in general by barter, coin being hardly even seen except
+for mules, for which it was imperative, as no one parted with “bestas”
+except for money down.  Passing a little wood we saw a row of stakes
+driven into the ground, and he informed us that they were evidently left
+by some Birivas, that is people from San Paulo, after having used them to
+secure their mules whilst saddling.  The Paulistas, we then learned, used
+the “sirigote,” that is, the old-fashioned high-peaked saddle brought
+from Portugal in times gone by, and not the “recado,” the saddle of the
+Gauchos, which is flat, and suited better for galloping upon a plain than
+for long marches over mountain passes and through woods.  All the points,
+qualities, with the shortcomings and the failings of a mule, he did
+rehearse.  It then appeared a mule should be mouse-coloured, for the
+red-coloured mule is of no use, the grey soft-footed, and the black
+bad-tempered, the piebald fit “for a German,” which kind of folk he held
+in abhorrence mixed with contempt, saying they whined in speaking as it
+had been the whining of an armadillo or a sloth.  The perfect mule should
+be large-headed, not with a little-hammer head like to a horse, but long
+and thin, with ears erect, round feet, and upon no account when spurred
+ought it to whisk its tail, for that was most unseemly, fit but for
+Germans, Negroes, Indians, and generally for all those he counted
+senseless people—“gente sem razão”; saying “of course all men are of one
+flesh, but some are dog’s flesh, and let them ride mules who whisk about
+their tails like cattle in a marsh.”  Beguiled by these, and other
+stories, we soon reached the gate of the enclosure, and he, dismounting,
+drew a key from one of the pockets of his belt and let us in.  A short
+half-hour brought us up to his house, passing through ground all
+overgrown with miamia and other shrubs which did not promise to afford
+much pasturage; but he informed us that we must not expect the grasses of
+the plains up at Cruz Alta, and thus conversing we arrived before his
+house.
+
+Surrounded by a fence enclosing about an acre, the house stood just on
+the edge of a thick wood.  On one side were the corrals for horses and
+for cattle, and on the other the quarters of the slaves.  In shape the
+houses resembled a flattish haystack thatched with reeds, and with a
+verandah rising round it, supported on strong posts.  At either end a
+kind of baldachino, one used as a stable and the other as a kitchen, and
+in the latter a fire continually alight, and squatted by it night and day
+a negress, either baking flat, thin girdle-cakes made of maize, shaking
+the flour out of her hand upon an iron plate, or else filling a gourd of
+maté with hot water, and running to and fro into the house to give it to
+her mistress, never apparently thinking it worth while to take the kettle
+with her into the house.
+
+The family, not quite so white as Xavier himself, consisted of a mother
+always in slippers, dressed in a skirt and shift, which latter garment
+always seemed about to fall down to her waist, and two thin, large-eyed,
+yellowish girls arrayed in vestments like a pillow-case, with a string
+fastening them at the narrowest place.  Slave girls of several hues did
+nothing and chattered volubly, and their mistress had to stand over them,
+a slipper in her hand, when maize was pounded in a rough mortar hewn from
+a solid log, in which the slaves hammered with pestles, one down, the
+other up, after the fashion of blacksmiths making a horsehoe, but with
+groans, and making believe to be extenuated after three minutes’ work,
+and stopping instantly the moment that their mistress went into the house
+to light her cigarette.
+
+An official in Cruz Alta, known as the Capitão do Matto, holding a status
+between a gamekeeper and a parish clerk, kept by the virtue of his office
+a whipping-house, to which recalcitrant or idle slaves were theoretically
+sent; but in the house of Xavier at least no one took interest enough in
+anything, except Xavier himself, to take the trouble; and the slaves
+ruled the female part of the establishment, if not exactly with a rod of
+iron, still to their perfect satisfaction, cooking and sewing now and
+then; sweeping, but fitfully; and washing when they wanted to look smart
+and figure at a dance.  The Capitão do Matto was supposed to bring back
+runaways and keep a leash of bloodhounds, but in the memory of man no one
+had seen him sally forth, and for the blood-hounds, they were long dead,
+although he drew regular rations for their maintenance.  In the interior
+of Brazil his office was no sinecure, but in Cruz Alta horses were
+plentiful, the country relatively easy, and slaves who ran away, which
+happened seldom, timed their escape so as to put a good day’s journey
+between them and any possible pursuit, and on the evening of the fifth
+day, if all went well, they got across the frontier into Uruguay.
+
+Terms once arranged, we let our horses loose, laid out rock-salt in
+lumps, first catching several of the tamest horses, and forcing pieces
+into their mouths; they taught the others, and we had nothing more to do.
+We paid our peons off, got our clothes washed, rested, and then found
+time at first hang heavy on our hands.  Hearing an Englishman lived about
+ten leagues off, we saddled up and rode to visit him.  After losing
+ourselves in a thick forest of some kind of pine, we reached his house,
+but the _soi-disant_ Briton was from Amsterdam, could speak no English,
+was a little drunk, but asked us to get off and dine with him.  During
+the dinner, which we had all alone, his wife and daughter standing
+looking at us (he too drunk to eat), pigs ran into the room, a half-grown
+tapir lay in a corner, and two new-caught macaws screamed horribly, so
+that, the banquet over, we did not stay, but thanked him in Portuguese,
+which he spoke badly, and rode off home, determining to sleep at the
+first wood, rather than face a night in such a place.
+
+The evening caught us near to a forest, the trail, sandy and white,
+running close to a sort of cove formed in the trees, and here we camped,
+taking our saddles off, lighting a fire, and lying down to sleep just in
+the opening of the cove, our horses tied inside.  All through the night
+people appeared to pass along the road.  I lay awake half-dozing now and
+then, and watched the bats, looked at the fire-flies flitting about the
+trees, heard the harsh howling of the monkeys, the tapirs stamp, the
+splash made by the lobos and carpinchos as they dashed into the stream,
+and then slept soundly, and awoke to find one of the horses gone.  The
+moon shone brightly, and, waking up my friend, I told him of our loss.
+We knew the horse must have a rope attached to him, and that he probably
+would try to get back to Cruz Alta, along the road we came.  My horse was
+difficult to bit, but by the aid of tying up one foot, and covering his
+eyes up with a handkerchief, we bitted him, then mounted both of us upon
+his back, hiding the other saddle behind some grass, and started on the
+road.  The sandy trail was full of horses’ tracks, so that we could do
+nothing but ride on, hoping to catch him feeding by the way.  About a
+league we rode, and then, not seeing him, turned slowly back to get the
+other saddle, make some coffee, and start home when it was light.  To our
+astonishment, upon arriving at the cove, the other horse was there, and
+neighing wildly, straining on his rope, and it appeared that he had never
+gone, but being tied close to the wood had wandered in, and we, thinking
+he must have gone, being half-dazed with sleep, had never thought of
+looking at his rope.
+
+Defrauded, so to speak, out of our Englishman, and finding that the
+horses, after the long journey and the change of water and of grass,
+daily grew thinner, making it quite impossible to move them, forwards or
+back, and after having vainly tried to sell them, change them for mules,
+or sugar, quite without success, no one except some “fazendero” here and
+there caring for horses in a land where every one rode mules, we settled
+down to loaf.  Once certain we had lost our money and our pains, nothing
+remained but to wait patiently until the horses got into sufficient state
+to sell, for all assured us that every day we went further into the
+interior, they would lose flesh, that we should have them bitten by
+snakes in the forests, and arrive at Rio, if we ever got there, either on
+foot, or with but the horses which we rode.
+
+For a short time we had almost determined to push on, even if we arrived
+at Rio with but a horse apiece.  Then came reflection, that reflection
+which has dressed the world in drab, made cowards of so many heroes, lost
+so many generous impulses, spoiled so many poems, and which mankind has
+therefore made a god of, and we decided to remain.  Then did Cruz Alta
+put on a new look.  We saw the wondrous vegetation of the woods, felt the
+full charm of the old-world quiet life, watched the strange
+multi-coloured insects, lay by the streams to mark the birds, listened
+for the howlings of the monkeys when night fell; picked the strange
+flowers, admired the butterflies floating like little blue and yellow
+albatrosses, their wings opened and poised in the still air, or wondered
+when a topaz-coloured humming-bird, a red macaw, an orange-and-black
+toucan, or a red-crested cardinal flitted across our path.  Inside the
+wood behind the house were clearings, made partly by the axe and partly
+by fire, amongst the tall morosimos, coronillos, and palo santos, and in
+the clearings known as “roças” grew beans and maize, with mandioca and
+occasionally barley, and round them ran a prickly hedge either of
+cactuses or thorny bush, cut down to keep out tapirs and deer, and
+usually in a straw hut a negro lay, armed with a flint-lock gun to fire
+at parrots, scare off monkeys, and generally to act as guardian of the
+place.  Orange and lemon trees, with citrons and sweet limes, grew
+plentifully, and had run wild amongst the woods; bananas were planted in
+the roça; but what we liked the best was a wild fruit called Guavirami,
+which grew in patches on the open camp, yellow and round, about the size
+of a small plum, low-growing, having three or four small stones, cold as
+an icicle to taste upon the hottest day.  A little river ran through the
+middle of the wood, and in a stream a curious machine was placed for
+pounding maize, driven by water-power, and unlike any contrivance of a
+similar nature I had ever seen before.  An upright block of wood, burned
+from the centre of a tree, stood in the stream, hollowed out in the
+centre to contain the maize; water ran up a little channel, and released
+a pestle, which fell with a heavy thud upon the corn, with the result
+that if one left a basket full in the great mortar over-night, by morning
+it was pounded, saving that labour which God Himself seems to have
+thought not so ennobling after all, as He first instituted it to carry
+out a curse.
+
+So one day told, and may, for all I know, have certified another, but we
+recked little of them, riding into Cruz Alta now and then and eating
+cakes at the confectioner’s, drinking innumerable glasses of sweet
+Malaga, laying in stores of cigarettes, frequenting all the dances far
+and near, joining in cattle-markings, races, and anything in short which
+happened in the place.
+
+Perhaps our greatest friend was one Luis, a slave, born in Angola,
+brought over quite “Bozal” (or muzzled, as the Brazilians say of negroes
+who can speak no Portuguese), then by degrees became “ladino,” was
+baptized, bought by our host Xavier, and had remained with him all the
+remainder of his life.  Black, and not comely in the least, bowlegged
+from constant riding, nose flat, and ears like flappers, a row of teeth
+almost as strong as a young shark’s, flat feet, and crisp Angola wool
+which grew so thickly on his head that had you thrown a pin on it, it
+could not have reached the skin, he yet was honest and faithful to the
+verge of folly; but then, if heaven there be, it can be but inhabited by
+fools, for wise men, prudent folk, and those who thrive, have their
+reward like singers, quickly, and can look for nothing more.  He spoke
+about himself half-pityingly under the style of “Luis o Captivo,” was
+pious, fervent in sacred song, instant in prayer (especially if work was
+to be done), not idle either, superstitious and affectionate with all the
+virtues of the most excellent Saint Bernard or Newfoundland dog, and with
+but little of the imperfections of a man except the power of speech.
+Often he had been with his master into Uruguay to purchase cattle, or to
+buy mules for the Brazilian market, and when I asked him if he did not
+know that he was free the instant that he stepped in Uruguay, said: “Yes,
+but here I was brought up when I first came from Africa; they have been
+kind to me, it is to me as the querencia {46} is to a horse, and were it
+not for that, small fear I should return, to remain here ‘feito captivo’;
+but then I love the place, and, as you know, ‘the mangy calf lived all
+the winter, and then died in the spring.’”  He held the Christian faith
+in its entirety, doubting no dogma, being pleased with every saint, but
+yet still hankered after fetish, which he remembered as a child, and
+seemed to think not incompatible with Christianity, as rendering it more
+animistic and familiar, smoothing away its angularities, blotting
+whatever share of reason it may have away, and, above all, giving more
+scope, if possible, to faith, and thereby opening a larger field of
+possibilities to the believer’s mind.
+
+So Luis with others of his kind, as Jango, Jico, and Manduco, became our
+friends, looking upon us with that respect mixed with contempt which is
+the attitude of those who see that you possess the mysterious arts of
+reading and of writing, but cannot see a horse’s footprint on hard
+ground; or if you lose yourself, have to avail yourself of what Luis
+referred to as “the one-handed watch the sailors use, which points the
+way to go.”
+
+Much did Xavier talk of the Indians of the woods, the “Bugres,” as the
+Brazilians call them; about the “Botocudos,” who wear a plug stuck in
+their lower lip, and shape their ears with heavy weights in youth, so
+that they hang upon their shoulders; and much about those “Infidel” who
+through a blowpipe direct a little arrow at the travelling “Christians”
+in the woods, whose smallest touch is death.  It then appeared his father
+(fica agora na gloria) was a patriot, that is, ’twas he who extirpated
+the last of all the “Infidel” from the forests where they lived.  Most
+graphically did he tell how the last Indians were hunted down with dogs,
+and in a pantomime he showed how they jumped up and fell when they
+received the shot, and putting out his tongue and writhing hideously, he
+imitated how they wriggled on the ground, explaining that they were worse
+to kill than is a tapir, and put his father and the other patriots to
+much unnecessary pain.  And as he talked, the woods, the fields, the
+river and the plain bathed in the sun, which unlike that of Africa does
+not seem weary of its task, but shines unwearied, looking as it does on a
+new world and life, shimmered and blazed, great lizards drank its rays
+flattening themselves upon the stones in ecstasy, humming-birds quivered
+at the heart of every flower; above the stream the dragon-flies hung
+poised; only some “Infidel” whom the patriots had destroyed seemed
+wanting, and the landscape looked incomplete without a knot of them in
+their high feather crowns stealthily stealing round a corner of the
+woods.
+
+In the uncomprehended future, incomprehensible and strange, and harder
+far to guess at than the remotest semi-comprehended past, surely the
+Spanish travellers and their writings will have a value quite apart from
+that of any other books.  For then the world will hold no “Bugres”; not a
+“Botocudo” will be left, and those few Indian and Negro tribes who yet
+persist will be but mere travesties of the whites: their customs lost,
+their lore, such as it was, despised; and we have proved ourselves wiser
+than the Creator, who wasted so much time creating beings whom we judged
+unfit to live, and then, in mercy to ourselves and Him, destroyed, so
+that no evidence of His miscalculated plan should last to shame Him when
+He thought of His mistake.  So to this end (unknowingly) the missionary
+works, and all the Jesuits, those who from Paraguay through the
+Chiquitos, and across the Uruguay, in the dark Moxos, and in the forests
+of the Andes, gave their lives to bring as they thought life everlasting
+to the Indians—all were fools.  Better by far instead of Bibles, lives of
+saints, water of baptism, crucifixes, and all the tackle of their trade,
+that they had brought swords, lances, and a good cross-bow each, and gone
+to work in the true scientific way, and recognized that the right way
+with savages is to preach heaven to them and then despatch them to it,
+for it is barbarous to keep them standing waiting as it were, just at the
+portals of eternal bliss.
+
+And as we lingered at Cruz Alta, Christmas drew near, and all the people
+began to make “pesebres,” with ox and ass, the three wise men, the star
+of Bethlehem, the Redeemer (not of the Botocudos and the Bugres) swaddled
+and laid in straw.  Herdsmen and negroes dismounted at the door, fastened
+their half-wild mules or horses carefully to posts, removed their hats,
+drawing them down over their faces furtively, and then walked in on
+tiptoe, their heavy iron spurs clanking upon the ground, to see the
+Wondrous Child.  They lounged about the room, speaking in whispers as he
+might awake, and then departed silently, murmuring that it was
+“fermosisimo,” and getting on their horses noiselessly were gone, and in
+a minute disappeared upon the plain.  Then came the Novena with prayer
+and carols, the prayers read by Xavier himself out of a tattered book,
+all the assembled family joining with unction in the responses, and
+beating on their breasts.  Luis and all the slaves joined in the carols
+lustily, especially in one sung in a minor key long-drawn-out as a
+sailor’s shanty, or a forebitter sung in a calm whilst waiting for a
+breeze.  After each verse there was a kind of chorus calling upon the
+sinner to repent, bidding him have no fear but still hold on, and thus
+exhorting him—
+
+    “Chegai, Chegai, pecador, áo pe da cruz
+    Fica nosso Senhor.”
+
+Christmas Day found us all at mass in the little church, horses and mules
+being tied outside the door to the trees in the plaza, and some left
+hobbled, and all waiting as if St. Hubert was about to issue forth and
+bless them.
+
+Painfully and long, the preacher dwelt upon the glorious day, the country
+people listening as it were new to them, and as if all the events had
+happened on the plain hard by.  In the evening rockets announced the
+joyful news, and the stars shone out over the woods and plains as on the
+evening when the bright particular star guided the three sheikhs to some
+such place as was the rancho of our host.
+
+Christmas rejoicings over, a month sped past and found us still, so to
+speak, wind-bound in the little town.  No one would buy our horses, some
+of which died bitten by snakes.  It was impossible to think of going on,
+and to return equally difficult, so that there seemed a probability of
+being obliged to pass a lifetime in the place.  People began to look at
+us half in a kindly, half contemptuous way, as people look in general
+upon those who fail, especially when they themselves have never tried to
+do anything at all but live, and having done it with considerable success
+look upon failure as a sort of minor crime, to be atoned for by humility,
+and to be reprobated after the fashion of adultery, with a
+half-deprecating laugh.  Sometimes we borrowed ancient flint-lock guns
+and lay in wait for tapirs, but never saw them, as in the thick woods
+they move as silently as moles in sand, and leave as little trace.  Luis
+told of how, mounted on a half-wild horse, he had long ago lassoed a
+tapir, and found himself and horse dragged slowly and invincibly towards
+a stream, the horse resisting terrified, the “gran besta” {51} apparently
+quite cool, so that at last he had to cut his lasso and escape from what
+he called the greatest peril of his life; he thought he was preserved
+partly by the interposition of the saints and partly by a “fetiço” which,
+in defiance of religion, he luckily had hanging round his neck.
+
+Just when all hope was gone, and we thought seriously of leaving the
+horses to their fate, and pushing on with some of the best of them
+towards Rio, a man appeared upon the scene, and offered to buy them, half
+for money and half “a troco,” that is barter, for it appeared he was a
+pawnbroker and had a house full of silver horse-gear, which had never
+been redeemed.  After much bargaining we closed for three hundred dollars
+and a lot of silver bridles, spurs, whips, and other stuff, after
+reserving four of the best horses for ourselves to make our journey back.
+At the head of so much capital our spirits rose, and we determined to
+push on to Paraguay, crossing the Uruguay and Parana, ride through the
+Misiones, and at Asuncion, where I had friends, take ship; _aguas abajo_,
+for the River Plate.  We paid our debts and bid good-bye to Xavier, his
+wife and sallow daughters, and to all the slaves; gave Luis a
+silver-mounted whip, bought some provisions, put on our silver spurs,
+bridles, and as much as possible of the silver gear we had become
+possessed of, and at daybreak, mounted upon a cream-and-white piebald,
+the “Bayo Overo,” and a red bay known as the “Pateador,” leading a horse
+apiece, we passed out of Xavier’s “potrero,” {52} and started on the
+road.
+
+During the last few days at Xavier’s we had taught the horses we intended
+to take to Paraguay to eat Indian corn, fastening them up without any
+other food all day, and putting salt into their mouths.  The art once
+learnt, we had to stand beside them whilst they ate, to keep off chickens
+and pigs who drove them from their food, the horses being too stupid to
+help themselves.  If I remember rightly, their ration was eight cobs,
+which we husked for them in our hands, blistering our fingers in the
+process as they had been burned.  But now the trouble of the process was
+repaid, the horses going strongly all day long.  We passed out of the
+little plain, skirted a pine-wood, rode up a little hill, and saw the
+country stretching towards the Uruguay, a park-like prairie interspersed
+with trees.  Cruz Alta, a white patch shining against the green-grey
+plain encircled with its woods, was just in sight, the church-tower
+standing like a needle in the clear air against the sky.  Half a league
+more and it dropped out of view, closing the door upon a sort of half
+Bœotian Arcady, but remaining still a memory after twenty years, with all
+the little incidents of the three months’ sojourn in the place fresh, and
+yet seeming as they had happened not to myself, but to a person I had
+met, and who had told the tale.
+
+By easy stages we journeyed on, descending gradually towards the Uruguay,
+passing through country almost unpopulated, so large were the “fazendas,”
+and so little stocked.  In the last century the Jesuits had here
+collected many tribes of Indians, and their history, is it not told in
+the pages of Montoya Lozano, Padre Guevara, and the other chroniclers of
+the doings of the “Company,” and to be read in the Archivo de Simancas,
+in that of Seville, and the uncatalogued “legajos” of the national
+library at Madrid?  Throughout the country that we passed through, the
+fierce Paulistas had raided in times gone by, carrying off the Christian
+Indians to be slaves.  The Portuguese and Spaniards had often
+fought—witness the names “O matto {54a} Portogues, O matto Castelhano,”
+and the like, showing where armies had manoeuvred, whilst the poor
+Indians waited like sheep, rejoicing when the butchers turned the knife
+at one another’s throats.  To-day all trace of Jesuits and Missions have
+long disappeared, save for a ruined church or two, and here and there a
+grassy mound called in the language of the country a “tapera,” {54b}
+showing where a settlement had stood.
+
+We camped at lonely ranchos inhabited, in general, by free negroes, or by
+the side of woods, choosing, if possible, some little cove in the wood,
+in which we tied the horses, building a fire in the mouth, laid down and
+slept, after concocting a vile beverage bought in Cruz Alta under the
+name of tea, but made I think of birch-leaves, and moistening pieces of
+the hard jerked beef in orange-juice to make it palatable.
+
+So after five or six days of steady travelling, meeting, if I remember
+rightly, not a living soul upon the way, except a Gaucho from the Banda
+Oriental, who one night came to our fire, and seeing the horrible brew of
+tea in a tin-pot asked for a little of the “black water,” not knowing
+what it was, we reached the Uruguay.  The river, nearly half-a-mile in
+breadth, flowed sluggishly between primeval woods, great alligators
+basked with their backs awash, flamingoes fished among the shallow pools,
+herons and cranes sat on dead stumps, vultures innumerable perched on
+trees, and in the purple bunches of the “seibos” humming-birds seemed to
+nestle, so rapid was their flight, and over all a darkish vapour hung,
+blending the trees and water into one, and making the “balsa,” as it
+laboured over after repeated calls, look like the barque of Styx.  Upon
+the other side lay Corrientes, once a vast mission territory, but to-day,
+in the narrow upper portion that we traversed, almost a desert, that is a
+desert of tall grass with islands of timber dotted here and there, and an
+occasional band of ostriches scudding across the plain.
+
+Camped by a wood about a quarter of a league from a lonely rancho, we
+were astonished, just at even-fall, by the arrival of the owner of the
+house mounted upon a half-wild horse, a spear in his hand, escorted by
+his two ragged sons mounted on half-wild ponies, and holding in their
+hands long canes to which a broken sheep-shear had been fixed.  The
+object of his visit, as he said, was to inquire if we had seen a tiger
+which had killed some sheep, but his suspicious glance made me think he
+thought we had designs upon his cattle, and he had come to reconnoitre
+us; but our offer of some of the Cruz Alta tea soon made us friends, and
+after drinking almost a quart of it, he said “Muy rico,” and rode back to
+his house.
+
+The third day’s riding brought us to the little town of Candelaria, built
+on a high bank over the Parana.  Founded on Candlemas Day in 1665, it was
+the chief town of the Jesuit missions.  Here, usually, the “Provincial”
+{56a} resided, and here the political business of their enormous
+territory was done.  Stretching almost from Cruz Alta to within fifty
+leagues of Asuncion del Paraguay, and from Yapeyú upon the Uruguay almost
+to the “Salto de Guayra” upon the Parana, the territory embraced an area
+larger than many a kingdom, and was administered without an army, solely
+by about two hundred priests.  The best proof of the success of their
+administration is that in these days the Indians, now to be numbered by a
+few thousand, were estimated at about two hundred thousand, and peopled
+all the country now left desolate, or which at least was desolate at the
+time of which I write.  Even Azara, {56b} a bitter opponent of their
+system, writes of the Jesuit rule—“Although the Fathers had supreme
+command, they used their power with a gentleness and moderation which one
+cannot but admire.” {56c}
+
+I leave to the economists, with all the reverend rabble rout of
+politicians, statistic-mongers and philanthropists, whether or not two
+hundred thousand living Indians were an asset in the world’s property;
+and to the pious I put this question, If, as I suppose, these men had
+souls just as immortal as our own, might it not have been better to
+preserve their bodies, those earthly envelopes without which no soul can
+live, rather than by exposing them to all those influences which the
+Jesuits dreaded, to kill them off, and leave their country without
+population for a hundred years?
+
+But at the time of which I write neither my partner nor I cared much for
+speculations of that kind, but were more occupied with the condition of
+our horses, for, by that time, the “Bayo Overo” and the “Pateador” were
+become part and parcel of ourselves, and we thought more about their
+welfare than that of all the Indians upon earth.
+
+La Candelaria, at the time when we passed through, was fallen from its
+proud estate, and had become a little Gaucho country town with sandy
+streets and horses tied at every door—a barren sun-burnt plaza, with a
+few Japanese ash-trees and Paraisos; the “Commandancia” with the
+Argentine blue-and-white barred flag, and trade-mark rising sun, hanging
+down listlessly against the post, and for all remnants of the Jesuit
+sway, the college turned into a town-hall, and the fine church, which
+seemed to mourn over the godless, careless, semi-Gaucho population in the
+streets.  Here we disposed of our spare horses, bidding them good-bye, as
+they had been old friends, and got the “Bayo Overo” and the “Pateador”
+shod for the first time in their lives, an operation which took the
+united strength of half-a-dozen men to achieve, but was imperative, as
+their feet, accustomed to the stone-less plains of Paraguay, had suffered
+greatly in the mountain paths.  In Candelaria, for the first time for
+many months, we sat down to a regular meal, in a building called “El
+Hotel Internacional”; drank wine of a suspicious kind, and seemed to have
+arrived in Paris, so great the change to the wild camps beside the
+forests, or the nights passed in the lone ranchos of the hilly district
+of Brazil.
+
+A balsa drawn by a tug-boat took us across the Parana, here more than a
+mile broad, to Ytapua, and upon landing we found ourselves in quite
+another world.  The little Paraguayan town of Ytapua, called by the
+Jesuits Encarnacion, lay, with its little port below it (where my friend
+Enrico Clerici had his store), upon a plateau hanging above the stream.
+The houses, built of canes and thatched with straw, differed extremely
+from the white “azotea” houses of the Candelaria on the other side.  The
+people, dress, the vegetation, and the mode of life, differed still more
+in every aspect.  The Paraguayan, with his shirt hanging outside his
+white duck trousers, bare feet, and cloak made of red cloth or baize, his
+broad straw hat and quiet manner, was the complete antithesis of the
+high-booted, loose-trousered, poncho-wearing Correntino, with his long
+knife and swaggering Gaucho air.  The one a horseman of the plains, the
+other a footman of the forests; the Correntino brave even to rashness
+when taken man for man, but so incapable of discipline as to be
+practically useless as a soldier.  The other as quiet as a sheep, and
+individually patient even to suffering blows, but once gathered together
+and instructed in the use of arms, as good a soldier, when well led, as
+it is possible to find; active and temperate, brave, and, if rather
+unintelligent, eager to risk his life at any time at the command of any
+of his chiefs.  Such was the material from which Lopez, coward and
+grossly incompetent as he was, formed the battalions which for four years
+kept both Buenos Ayres and Brazil at bay, and only yielded when he
+himself was killed, mounted, as tradition has it, on the last horse of
+native breed left in the land.
+
+But if the people and their dwellings were dissimilar, the countries in
+themselves were to the full at least as different.  All through the upper
+part of Corrientes the soil is black, and the country open, park-like
+prairie dotted with trees; in Ytapua and the surrounding district, the
+earth bright red, and the primeval forest stretches close to the water’s
+edge.  In Corrientes still the trees of the Pampas are occasionally seen,
+Talas and ñandubay with Coronillo and Lapacho; whereas in Paraguay, as by
+a bound, you pass to Curupay, {60a} Tatané, {60b} the Tarumá, {60c} the
+Ñandipá, {60d} the Jacaranda, and the Paratodo with its bright yellow
+flowers; whilst upon every tree lianas cling with orchidaceæ, known to
+the natives as “flowers of the air,” and through them all flit great
+butterflies, humming-birds dart, and underneath the damp vegetation of
+the sub-tropics, emphorbiaceæ, solanaceæ, myrtaceæ, and flowers and
+plants to drive a thousand botanists to madness, blossom and die unnamed.
+Here, too, the language changed, and Guarani became the dominant tongue,
+which, though spoken in Corrientes, is there used but occasionally, but
+among Paraguayans is their native speech, only the Alcaldes, officers,
+and upper classes as a general rule (at that time) speaking Spanish, and
+even then with a strange accent and much mixed with Guarani.
+
+Two days we passed in Ytapua resting our horses, and I renewed my
+friendship with Enrico Clerici, an Italian, who had served with
+Garibaldi, and who, three years ago, I had met in the same place and
+given him a silver ring which he reported galvanized, and was accustomed
+to lend as a great favour for a specific against rheumatism.  He kept a
+pulperia, and being a born fighter, his delight was, when a row occurred
+(which he styled “una barulla de Jesu Cristo”), to clear the place by
+flinging empty bottles from the bar.  A handsome, gentlemanlike man, and
+terrible with a bottle in his hand, whether as weapon of offence or for
+the purposes of drink; withal well educated, and no doubt by this time
+long dead, slain by his favourite weapon, and his place filled by some
+fat, double-entry Basque or grasping Catalan, or by some portly emigrant
+from Germany.
+
+Not wishing to be confined within a house, a prey to the mosquitoes, we
+camped in the chief square, and strolling round about the town, I came on
+an old friend.
+
+Not far outside the village a Correntino butcher had his shop, a little
+straw-thatched hut, with strings of fresh jerked beef festooning all the
+place; the owner stood outside dressed in the costume of a Gaucho of the
+southern plains.  I did not know him, and we began to talk, when I
+perceived, tied underneath a shed, a fine, dark chestnut horse, saddled
+and bitted in the most approved of Gaucho style.  He somehow seemed
+familiar, and the Correntino, seeing me looking at his horse, asked if I
+knew the brand, but looking at it I failed to recognize it, when on a
+sudden my memory was lighted up.  Three years ago, in an “estero” {62}
+outside Caapucú, at night, journeying in company with a friend, one
+Hermann, whose only means of communication with me was a jargon of
+Spanish mixed with “Plaat Deutsch,” we met a Correntino, and as our
+horses mutually drowned our approach by splashing with their feet, our
+meeting terrified us both.  Frightened, he drew his knife, and I a
+pistol, and Hermann lugged out a rusty sword, which he wore stuck through
+his horse’s girths.  But explanations followed, and no blood was shed,
+and then we drew aside into a little hillock, called in the language of
+the place an “albardon,” sat down and talked, and asking whence he came
+was told from Ytapua.  Now Ytapua was three days’ journey distant on an
+ordinary horse, and I looked carefully at the horse, and wondered why his
+owner had ridden him so hard.  He, I now saw, was the horse I had seen
+that night, and the Correntino recognized me, and laughing said he had
+killed a man near Ytapua, and was (as he said) “retreating” when he met
+me in the marsh.  The horse, no doubt, was one of the best for a long
+journey I have ever seen, and after quoting to his owner that “a dark
+chestnut horse may die, but cannot tire,” {63a} we separated, and, no
+doubt, for years afterwards our meeting was the subject of his talk.
+
+No doubt the citizens of Ytapua were scandalized at our not coming to the
+town, and the Alcalde came to interview us, but we assured him that in
+virtue of a vow we slept outside, and in a moment all his fears were
+gone.
+
+Striking right through the then desolated Misiones, passing the river
+Aguapey, our horses almost swimming, skirting by forests where red macaws
+hovered like hawks and parrots chattered; passing through open plains
+grown over here and there with Yatais, {63b} splashing for hours through
+wet esteros, missing the road occasionally, as I had travelled it but
+once, and then three years ago, and at the time I write of huts were few
+and far between, and population scanty, we came, upon the evening of the
+second day, near to a place called Ñacuti.  This was the point for which
+I had been making, for near it was an estancia {63c} called the “Potrero
+San Antonio,” the property of Dr. Stewart, a well-known man in Paraguay.
+Nature had seemed to work to make the place impregnable.  On three sides
+of the land, which measured eight or ten miles in length on every side,
+forks of a river ran, and at the fourth they came so close together that
+a short fence, not half-a-mile in length, closed up the circle, and
+cattle once inside were safe but for the tigers, which at that time
+abounded, and had grown so fierce by reason of the want of population
+that they sometimes killed horses or cows close to the door of the house.
+A short “picada,” of about a quarter of a mile in length, cut through the
+wood, led to the gate.  Through it in times gone by I often rode at night
+in terror, with a pistol in my hand, the heavy foliage of the trees
+brushing my hat, and thinking every instant that a tiger would jump out.
+One night when close up to the bamboo bars I heard a grunt, thought my
+last hour had come, fired, and brought something down; approached, and
+found it was a peccary; and then, tearing the bars down in a hurry, got
+to horse, and galloped nine miles to the house, thinking each moment that
+the herd of peccaries was close behind and panting for my blood.
+
+On this occasion all was still; the passage through the orange trees was
+dark, their scent oppressive, as the leaves just stirred in the hot north
+wind, and fire-flies glistened to and fro amongst the flowers; great bats
+flew heavily, and the quarter of a mile seemed mortal, and as if it led
+to hell.
+
+Nothing occurred, and coming to the bars we found them on the ground;
+putting them up we conscientiously cursed the fool who left them out of
+place, and riding out into the moonlight, after a little trouble found
+the sandy, deep-banked trail which led up to the house.  All the nine
+miles we passed by islands of great woods, peninsulas and archipelagos
+jutting out into the still plain, and all their bases swathed in white
+mists like water: the Yatais looked ghostly standing starkly in the
+grass; from the lagoons came the shrill croak of frogs, great moths came
+fluttering across our path, and the whole woods seemed filled with noise,
+as if the dwellers in them, silent through the day, were keeping holiday
+at night.  As for the past two days we had eaten nothing but a few
+oranges and pieces of jerked beef, moistening them in the muddy water of
+the streams, our talk was of the welcome we should get, the supper, and
+of the comfortable time we then should pass for a few days to give our
+horses rest.
+
+We passed the tiger-trap, a structure built after the fashion of an
+enormous mouse-trap, of strong bamboos; skirted along a wood in which an
+ominous growling and rustling made our horses start, and then it struck
+me as curious that there were no cattle feeding in the plain, no horses,
+and that the whole potrero seemed strangely desolate; but the house just
+showing at the edge of a small grove of peach-trees drove all these
+speculations out of my head: thinking upon the welcome, and the dinner,
+for we had eaten nothing since daybreak, and were fasting, as the natives
+say, from everything but sin, we reached the door.  The house was dark,
+no troop of dogs rushed out to bark and seize our horses’ tails; we
+shouted, hammered with our whips, fired our revolvers, and nothing
+answered us.
+
+Dismounting, we found everything bolted and barred, and going to the
+back, on the kitchen-hearth a few red embers, and thus knew that some one
+had been lately in the place.  Nothing to eat, the woods evidently full
+of tigers, and our horses far too tired to start again, we were just
+about to unsaddle and lie down and sleep, when a white figure stole out
+from the peach-trees, and tried to gain the shelter of the corral some
+sixty yards away.  Jumping on horseback we gave chase, and coming up with
+the fugitive found it to be a Paraguayan woman, who with her little
+daughter were the sole inhabitants, her husband having gone to the
+nearest village to buy provisions, and left her all alone, warning her
+earnestly before he left to keep the doors shut during the night on
+account of the tigers, and not to venture near the woods even in daylight
+till he should have come back.  Finding herself confronted by two armed,
+mounted men, dressed in the clothes of Correntinos, who had an evil
+reputation in Paraguay, her terror was extreme.  Her daughter, a little
+girl of eight or nine, crept out from behind a tree, and in a moment we
+were friends.  Unluckily for us, she had no food of any kind, and but a
+little maté, which she prepared for us.  She then remembered that the
+trees were covered with peaches, and went out and gathered some, but they
+were hard as stones; nevertheless we ate a quantity of them, and having
+tied our horses close to the house, not twenty paces from the door, in
+long lush grass, we lay down in the verandah, and did not wake till it
+was almost noon.  When we awoke we found the woman had been up betimes
+and gone on foot five or six miles away to look for food.  She brought
+some mandioca, and two or three dozen oranges, and a piece of almost
+putrefied jerked beef, all which we ate as heartily as if it had been the
+most delicious food on earth.
+
+To my annoyance I found my horse weak and dejected, and several large
+clots of dried-up blood under the hair of his mane, and saw at once a
+vampire bat had fixed upon him, and no doubt sucked almost a quart of
+blood.  We washed him in a pond close to the house, and he got better,
+and after eating some of the hard and unripe peaches we again lay down to
+sleep.  By evening the woman’s husband had returned, and proved to be a
+little lame and withered-looking man, mounted upon a lean and skinny
+horse.  He undertook to guide us to Asuncion, remarking that it was
+twenty years since he had seen the capital, but that he knew the road as
+if he was accustomed to go there every day.  With a slight lapsus this
+turned out to be the case, and just at daybreak we left the Potrero San
+Antonio, where once before I had passed a month roaming about the woods,
+waiting for tigers in a tree at night, and never thinking that, in three
+years’ time, I should return and find it desolate.  It seemed that Dr.
+Stewart, not finding the speculation pay, had sold his cattle, and his
+manager, one Oliver, a Californian “Forty-niner,” and his Paraguayan
+wife, had removed to a place some twenty leagues away, upon the road
+towards Asuncion.
+
+There we determined to go and rest our horses, and left the place, our
+guide Florencio’s wife impressing on him to be sure and bring her back a
+little missal from the capital, and he, just like an Arab or an Indian
+leaving home, unmoved, merely observing that the folk in Asuncion were
+“muy ladino” (very cunning), and it behoved a Christian to take care.
+
+A day’s long march brought us near Santa Rosa, and our guide here fell
+into his first and only error on the road.  Pursuing an interminable
+palm-wood, we came out upon a little plain, all broken here and there
+with stunted Yatais, then to our great disgust the road bifurcated, and
+our guide insisted on striking to the left, though I was almost certain
+it was wrong.  After an hour of heavy ploughing through the sand, I
+suddenly saw two immense palm-trees about a league away upon the right,
+and luckily remembered that they stood one on each side of the old Jesuit
+church at Santa Rosa, and after an hour of scrambling through a stony
+wood arrived at the crossing of the little river just outside the place.
+Girls carrying water-jars upon their heads, and dressed in long white
+shifts, embroidered round the neck with coarse black lace, were going and
+coming in a long procession to the stream.  A few old men and about
+thirty boys composed almost the entire male population of the town.
+Women entirely ruled the roost, and managed everything, and, as far as I
+can now recall, did it not much more inefficiently than men.  The curious
+wooden church, dark, and with overhanging eaves, and all the images of
+saints still left from Jesuit times in choir and nave, with columns hewn
+from the trunks of massive trees, stood in the centre of the village,
+which was built after the fashion of a miner’s “row,” or of a St.
+Simonian phalanstery, each dwelling at least a hundred feet in length,
+and all partitioned off in the inside for ten or fifteen families.  The
+plaza was overgrown with grass, and on it donkeys played, chasing each
+other up and down, and sometimes running up the wooden steps of the great
+church, and stumbling down again.  Those who had horses led them down to
+bathe, cut “pindo” {69} for them, rode them at evening time, and passed
+their time in dressing and in combing them to get them into condition for
+the Sunday’s running at the ring, which sport introduced by the Jesuits
+has continued popular in all the villages of the Misiones up to the
+present time.  The women flirted with the men, who by their rarity were
+at a premium, gave themselves airs, and went about surrounded by a
+perpetual and admiring band.  The single little shop, which contained
+needles, gunpowder, and gin, was kept by an Italian, who, as he told me,
+liked the place, lent money, was a professing and quite unabashed
+polygamist, and I have no doubt long ere this time has made a fortune,
+and retired to live at Genoa in the self-same green velvet suit in which
+he left his home.
+
+In this Arcadia we remained some days, and hired several girls to bathe
+the horses, which they performed most conscientiously, splashing and
+shouting in the stream for hours at a time, and bringing back the horses
+clean, and garnished with flowers in their manes.  I rode one day to see
+a village two or three leagues away, where report said some of the Jesuit
+books had been preserved; got lost, and passed the night in a small
+clearing, where a fat and well-cared-for-looking handsome roan horse was
+tied.  On seeing me he broke his picket-rope, ran furiously four or five
+times round me in circles, and then advancing put his nostrils close to
+the nostrils of my horse, and seemed to talk to him.  His owner, an old
+Paraguayan, lame from a wound received in jumping from a canoe onto the
+deck of a Brazilian ironclad, told me his horse had been with him far
+into the interior, and for a year had never seen another horse.  But, he
+said, “Tata Dios has given every animal its speech after its kind, and he
+is glad to see your horse, and is no doubt asking him the news.”
+
+During the night, I cannot say exactly what the two horses talked about,
+but the old Paraguayan talked for hours of his adventures in the lately
+terminated war.  It appeared that he, with seven companions, thinking to
+take a Brazilian ironclad anchored in the Paraguay, concealed themselves
+in a small canoe, behind some drift-wood, and floating plants called
+“camalotes,” drifted down with the stream, and coming to the ship jumped
+with a yell aboard.  The Brazilians, taken by surprise, all ran below,
+and the poor Paraguayans thinking the ship was theirs, sat quietly down
+upon the deck to plan what they should do.  Seeing them off their guard,
+some of the crew turned a gun upon them, and at the first fire killed
+six, and wounded my host, who sprang into the stream, and gained the
+bank, but most unluckily not on the Paraguayan side.  As at that time the
+Chaco Indians, who had profited by the war to make invasions upon every
+side, killed every Christian, as my host said “sin perdon,” so he
+remained half starving for a night and day.  On the third morning,
+wounded as he was, and seeing he must starve or else be killed if seen by
+Indians, he got a fallen tree, and with great difficulty, and
+marvellously escaping the fierce fish who come like wolves to the scent
+of blood, and unmolested by the alligators, he reached the other side.
+There he was found by some women, lying unconscious on the river-bank,
+was cured, and though scarred in a dozen places, and lame for life,
+escaped, as he informed me, by his devotion to San José, whom he
+described under the title of the “husband of the mother of our Lord.”
+
+In the morning he rode a league with me upon the way, and as we parted
+his horse neighed shrilly, reared once or twice, and plunged, and when we
+separated I looked back and saw the devotee of St. Joseph sitting as
+firmly as a centaur, as his horse loped along the sandy
+palm-tree-bordered trail.  During our stay at Santa Rosa, which was an
+offshoot from the more important mission of Santa Maria de Fé, although
+they had no priest the people gathered in the church, the Angelus was
+rung at evening for the “oracion,” and every one on hearing it took off
+his hat and murmured something that he thought apposite.  Thus did
+ceremony, always much more important than mere faith, continue, and no
+doubt blessed the poor people to the full as much as if it had been duly
+sanctified by a tonsured priest, and consecrated by a rightly constituted
+offertory.  We left the place with real regret, and to this day, when in
+our hurried life I dream of peace, my thoughts go back to the old
+Paraguayan Jesuit “capilla” lost in the woods of Morosimo, Curupay, and
+Yba-hai, and with its two tall feathery palm-trees rustling above the
+desecrated church; to the long strings of white-robed women carrying
+water-jars, and to the old-world life, perhaps by this time altered and
+swept away, or yet again not altered, and passing still in the same quiet
+fashion as when we were there.
+
+Little by little we left the relatively open country of the Misiones
+behind, and passing Ibyra-pucú, San Roque, and Ximenes, came to the river
+Tebicuary.  We passed it in canoes, the horses swimming, with their backs
+awash and heads emerging like water-monsters, whilst an impassive Indian
+paddled in the stern, and a young girl stood in the bows wielding a
+paddle like a water-sprite.  The river passed, we got at once into the
+forests, and followed winding and narrow paths, worn by the footsteps of
+the mules of ages so deeply that our heavy Gaucho spurs almost trailed on
+the ground, whilst overhead lianas now and then quite formed a roof, and
+in the heavy air winged animals of every kind made life a burden.  At
+last, leaving the little town of Quiquyó upon the right, we emerged on to
+a high and barren plain near Caapucú.  On the evening of the second day
+from where we crossed the river, we came to Caballero Punta, just
+underneath a range of flattish hills, and riding to the door at a sharp
+gallop, pulled up short, and found ourselves greeted by the ex-manager of
+the Potrero San Antonio, my friend the “Forty-niner,” and for the first
+time for four months saw a familiar face.  Gentle and kindly, though
+quick on the trigger, as befitted one who had crossed the plains in ’48
+on foot, and with his whole possessions packed on a bullock, passing the
+Rocky Mountains alone, and through the hostile tribes at that time
+powerful and savage, John Oliver was one of those strange men who, having
+passed their lives in perils and privations, somehow draw from them that
+very kindliness which those living in what appear more favourable
+surroundings so often lack.  Born somewhere in the Yorkshire Dales (these
+he remembered well), and as he thought “back somewhere in the twenties,”
+he had suffered all his life from the strange fever which impels some men
+to search for gold.  Not on the Stock Exchange, or any of those places
+where it might reasonably be expected to be found, but in Australia,
+California, Mexico, in short wherever life was hard, death easy, and
+experience to be gathered, he sought with pick and shovel, rocker and pan
+and cradle, the “yellow iron,” as the Apaches used to call it, which
+sought and found after the fashion of his kind, enriches some one else.
+From California he had drifted to Peru, from thence to Chile, but finding
+silver-mining too laborious or too lucrative for his conversing, and
+hearing of a fertile diggings opened in the Republic of Uruguay, had
+migrated there, and arrived somehow in Paraguay to find that the
+enchantment of his life was done, and settled down to live.  Tall, and
+with long grey hair hanging in Western fashion down his back, a careful
+horseman after the style of the trappers of the West, his pale blue eyes
+looked out upon the world as with an air of doubt; yet he had served in
+San Francisco as a “vigilante,” sojourned with Brigham Young in Salt Lake
+City, leaving as he confessed two or three wives among the saints, sat in
+Judge Lynch’s court a dozen times, most probably had killed a man or two;
+still, to my fancy, if the meek are to inherit any portion of the earth,
+his share should not be small.
+
+He made us welcome, and his wife waited upon us, never presuming to sit
+down and eat, but standing ready with a napkin fringed with lace, to wipe
+our hands, pressing the food upon us, and behaving generally as if she
+found herself in the presence of some strange beings of an unfamiliar
+race.  He said he had no children and was glad of it, for he explained
+that “Juaneeter was a good woman, but ‘uneddicated,’ and he had never
+taken thoroughly to half-caste pups, though he remembered some born of a
+Pi-Ute woman, way back somewhere about the fifties, who he supposed by
+now were warriors, and had taken many scalps.”  His wife stood by, not
+understanding any English and but little Spanish, which he himself spoke
+badly, and their talk was held in a strange jargon mixed with Guarani,
+without a verb, without a particle, and yet sufficient for the two simple
+creatures whom a strange fate, or a discerning, ever-watchful Providence,
+had thus ordained to meet.  No books were in the place, except a Bible,
+which he read little of late years, partly from failing sight, and
+partly, as he said, because he had detected what seemed to him
+“exaggerations,” chiefly in figures and as to the number of the
+unbelievers whom the Chosen People slew.  Two days or more, for time was
+taken no account of in his house, we waited with him, talking late every
+night of Salt Lake, Brigham Young, the Mountain-meadows Massacre, Kit
+Carson, Cochise and Mangas Coloradas, and matters of that kind which
+interested him, and which, when all is said, are just as interesting to
+those attuned to them, as is polemical theology, theories of art, systems
+of jurisprudence, the origin of the Atoll Islands, or any of the wise
+futilities with which men stock their minds.  We parted on the third or
+fourth, or perhaps the fifth or sixth day, knowing that we should never
+meet again, and taking off my silver spurs I gave them to him, and he
+presented me with a light summer poncho woven by his wife.  Much did he
+thank me for my visit, and made me swear never to pass the district
+without stopping at his house.  This I agreed to do, and if I pass again
+either by Caballero Punta or by Caapucú, I will keep faith; but he, I
+fear, will have deceived me, and in the churchyard of the “capilla,”
+under a palm-tree, with a rough cross above him, I shall find my simple
+friend.
+
+Three or four days of jogging steadily, passing by Quindy, and through
+the short “estero” of Acaai, which we passed splashing for several hours
+up to the girths, brought us to Paraguari, which, with its saddle-shaped
+mountain overhanging it, stood out a mark for leagues upon the level
+plain.  Seldom in any country have I seen a railway so fall into the
+landscape as did the line at the little terminus of this the only railway
+in all Paraguay.  The war had left the country almost in ruins, business
+was at a standstill, food was scarce, and but for a bale or two of
+tobacco, and a hide-sack or two of yerba, the train went empty to and
+fro.  But as the people always wanted to go to the capital in search of
+work, six or eight empty trucks were always sent with every train.  On
+them the people (mostly women) swarmed, seated like flies, upon the top
+and sides, dangling their legs outside like people sitting on a wharf,
+talking incessantly, all dressed in white, and every one, down to the
+smallest children, smoking large cigars.  Six hours the passage took, if
+all went well, the distance being under fifty miles.  If aught went
+wrong, it took a day or more, and at the bridges the trucks were all
+unhooked and taken over separately, so rotten was the state of the whole
+line, and in addition every here and there bridges had been blown away
+during the war, and roughly rendered serviceable by shoring up with wood.
+To meet a train labouring and puffing through the woods, the people
+clustering like bees upon the trucks, the engineer seated in
+shirt-sleeves, whilst some women stoked the fire, was much the same as it
+is to meet a caravan meandering across the sands.  If you desired to talk
+with any one the train incontinently stopped, the passengers got out,
+relit their cigarettes, the women begged, the time of day was passed, and
+curiosity thus satisfied you passed on upon the road, and the
+“Maquina-guazu,” {78} as it was called, pursued contentedly the jolting
+and uneven tenor of its way.  We naturally despised it, though the
+conductor, scenting business, offered to take us and our horses at almost
+any price we chose.
+
+By the Laguna Ypocarai we took our way; skirting along its eastern
+shores, then desolate, and the whole district almost depopulated, we
+passed by palm-groves and deserted mandioca patches, reed cottages in
+ruins, watched the flamingoes fishing in the lake, the alligators lying
+motionless, and saw an Indian all alone in a dug-out canoe, casting his
+line as placidly as he had lived before the coming of the Spaniards to
+the land.  A red-blue haze hung on the waters of the lake, reflected from
+the bright red earth, peeping between the trees, and on the islands
+drifts of mist gave an effect as if the palms were parachutes dropped
+from balloons, or perhaps despatched from earth to find out whether in
+the skies there could be anything more lovely than this quiet inland sea.
+Close to the top end of the lake stands Aregua, once under the Mercenary
+friars of Asuncion, who, as Azara says, having made the people of the
+place work for them for near two hundred years, began to think they were
+indeed their slaves, till an official sent from Spain in 1783 gave them
+their liberty, and the Mercenaries (as he says) at once retreated in
+disgust.  Here we fell in with a compatriot, who at our time of meeting
+him was drunk.  He told us that he passed his time after the fashion of
+the patriarchs in the Old Testament, and on arriving at his house it
+seemed he was provided with several wives, but of the flocks and herds,
+and other trade-marks of his supposed estate, we saw no trace.  Still he
+was hospitable, setting the women to cut down pindo for the horses, take
+them to water, bathe them, and finally to cook some dinner for ourselves.
+His chief complaint was that his wives were Catholics, and now and then
+trudged off to mass, and left him without any one to cook his food.  I
+doubted personally if a change of creed would better things, but held my
+peace, seeing the man set store by the faith which he had learnt in youth
+and still said he practised, but, as far as I could see, only by cursing
+the religion of the people of the place.  We left his house without
+regret, though he was hospitable and half drunk for nearly all the time
+that we were there, and started on our last day’s march considerably
+refreshed by meeting one who in a foreign land, far from home ties and
+moral influences, yet still pursued the simple practice of the faith
+which he had learned at home.
+
+Luque, upon its little hill, the Campo Grande, like a dry lake,
+surrounded by thick woods on every side, and then the Recoleta, we
+passed, and entering the red sandy road made at the conquest to move
+troops upon, we saw the churches of Asuncion only a league away.  And yet
+we lingered, walking our horses slowly in the deep red sand, passing the
+strings of countrywomen with baskets on their heads, driving their
+donkeys packed with sugar-cane, and smoking as they went; we lingered,
+feeling that the trip was done; not that we minded that our fortunes were
+not made, but vaguely felt that for the last five months we had lived a
+time which in our lives we should not see again, and fearing rather than
+looking forward to all the approaching change.  The horses too were fat,
+in good condition, had become old friends, knew us so well we never tied
+them, but all night in camp left them to feed, being certain that they
+would not stray; and thus to leave them at the end of a long trip seemed
+as unreasonable as to part from an old friend simply because death calls.
+
+The road grew wider, passed through some scattered houses, buried in
+orange and guayaba trees, ran through some open patches where grew wild
+indigo and castor-oil plants, with a low palm-scrub, entered a rancheria
+just outside the town, and then turned to a sandy street which merged in
+a great market, where, as it seemed, innumerable myriads were assembled,
+all chattering at once, or so it struck us coming from the open solitary
+plains and the dark silent woods.  The lowness of the river having
+stopped the Brazilian mail-boat from coming down from Corumba, we put up
+at the “Casa Horrocks,” the resort of all the waifs and strays
+storm-bound in Paraguay.  The town buried in vegetation, the sandy
+streets, all of them watercourses after a night’s rain, the listless
+life, the donkeys straying to and fro, the white-robed women, with their
+hair hanging down their backs, and cut square on the forehead after the
+style so usual amongst Iceland ponies, the great unfinished palaces, the
+squares with grass five or six inches high, and over all the reddish haze
+blending the palm-trees, houses, sandy streets, the river and the distant
+Chaco into a copper-coloured whole at sunset, rise to my memory like the
+reflection of a dream.  A dream seen in a convex mirror, opening away
+from me as years have passed, the actual things, men, actions, and
+occurrences of daily life seem swollen in it at the far end of some
+perspective, but the impression of the whole fresh and clear-cut in
+memory, standing out as boldly as the last day when on the “Pateador” I
+had a farewell gallop on the beach.  Adios, “Pateador,” or “till so
+long”—horses will be born as good, better, ten thousand times more
+valuable, and dogs will eat them, but for myself, and for the owner of
+the “Bayo Overo,” not all the coursers of the sun could stir the
+reminiscences of youth, of lonely camping-grounds, long nights in
+drenching rain, struggles with wind, wild gallops in the dark; the hopes
+and fears of the five months when we went fortune-seeking, and by God’s
+mercy failed in our search, as the mere mention of those names forgotten
+to all the world except ourselves.
+
+Eight or ten days had passed away, and we grew quite familiar with the
+chief features of the place, having made acquaintance with the Brazilian
+officers of the army and the fleet, the German apothecary, with Dr.
+Stewart, the chief European of the place, when news came that the
+Brazilian mail-boat had at last arrived.  We bade our friends good-bye,
+entrusted both our horses to the care of Horrocks, fed them ourselves for
+the last time, and went on board the ship; a coppery haze hung over
+everything, the heat raising a faint quivering in the air, the thick
+yellowish water of the stream lapping against the vessel’s sides like
+oil, the boat shoved off, our friends perspiring in the sun raising a
+washed-out cheer.  The vessel swung into the stream, her paddles turned,
+the great green flag with the orange crown imperial flapped at the
+jackstaff, and the town dropped rapidly astern.
+
+A quarter of a league and the church towers, tall palm-trees, the
+unfinished palaces, and the great theatre began to fade into the haze.
+Then sheering a little to the Left bank, the vessel passed a narrow
+tongue of land covered with grass, whereon two horses fed.  As we drew
+nearer I saw they were our own, and jumping on the taffrail shouted
+“Adios,” at which they raised their heads, or perhaps raised them but at
+the snorting steamer, and as they looked we passed racing down stream,
+and by degrees they became dimmer, smaller, less distinct, and at the
+last melted and vanished into the reddish haze.
+
+
+
+
+IN A GERMAN TRAMP
+
+
+THE tall, flaxen-haired stewardess Matilda had finished cutting
+Schwartzbrod and had gone to bed.  The Danish boarhound slept heavily
+under the lee of the chicken-coops, the six or seven cats were upon the
+cabin sofa, and with the wind from the south-west, raising a terrific
+sea, and sending showers of spray flying over the tops of the black rocks
+which fringed the town, the S.S. _Oldenburg_ got under way and staggered
+out into the gut.
+
+The old white city girt on the seaward side by its breakwater of tall
+black rocks, the houses dazzlingly white, the crenelated walls, the long
+stretch of sand, extending to the belt of grey-green scrub and backed in
+the distance by the sombre forest, lay in the moonlight as distinct and
+clear as it had been mid-day.  Clearer perhaps, for the sun in a sandy
+landscape seems to blur the outlines which the moon reveals; so that
+throughout North Africa night is the time to see a town in all its beauty
+of effect.  The wind lifting the sand, drifted it whistling through the
+standing rigging of the tramp, coating the scarce dried paint, and making
+paint, rigging, and everything on board feel like a piece of shark-skin
+to the touch.  The vessel groaned and laboured in the surface sea, and on
+the port quarter rose the rocks of the low island which forms the
+harbour, leaving an entrance of about half-a-mile between its shores and
+the rocks which guard the town.
+
+West-south-west a little westerly, the wind ever increased; the sea
+lashed on the vessel’s quarter, and in spite of the dense volumes of
+black smoke and showers of sparks flying out from the salt-coated
+smoke-stack, the tramp seemed to stand still.  Upon the bridge the
+skipper screamed hoarsely in Platt-Deutsch down his connection-tube to
+the chief engineer; men came and went in dirty blue check cotton clothes
+and wooden shoes; occasionally a perspiring fireman poked his head above
+the hatch, and looking seaward for a moment, scooped off the sweat from
+his forefinger, muttered, “Gott freduma,” and went below; even the Arab
+deck-hands, roused into activity, essayed to set a staysail, and the
+whole ship, shaken between the storm and the exertions of the crew,
+trembled and shivered in the yeasty sea.  Nearer the rocks appeared, and
+the white town grew clearer, more intensely white, the sea frothed round
+the vessel, and the skipper advancing to a missionary seated silently
+gazing across the water with a pallid sea-green face, slapped him upon
+the back, and with an oath said, “Mister, will you have one glass of
+beer?”  The Levite in partibus, clad in his black alpaca Norfolk jacket,
+grey greasy flannel shirt and paper collar, with the whole man surmounted
+by the inevitable pith soup-tureen-shaped hat, the trade-mark of his
+confraternity, merely pressed both his hands harder upon his diaphragm
+and groaned.  “One leetel glass beer, I have it from Olten, fifty dozen
+of it.  Perhaps all to be wasted; have a glass beer, it will do your
+shtomag good.”  The persecuted United Presbyterian ambulant broke silence
+with one of those pious ejaculations which do duty (in the congregations)
+for an oath, and taking up his parable, fixing the pith tureen upon his
+head with due precaution, said, “Captain, ye see I am a total abstainer,
+joined in the Whifflet, and in addeetion I feel my stomach sort o’
+discomposed.”  And to him again, good Captain Rindelhaus rejoined, “Well,
+Mister Missionary, do you see dat rocks?”  The Reverend Mr. McKerrochar,
+squinting to leeward with an agonizing stare, admitted that he did, but
+qualified by saying, “there was sic a halgh, he was na sure that they
+were rocks at all.”  “Not rocks!  Kreuz-Sacrament, dose rocks you see are
+sharp as razors, and the back-wash off them give you no jance; I dell
+you, sheep’s-head preacher, dat point de way like signboard and not
+follow it oop himself, you better take glass beer in time, for if the
+schip not gather headway in about five minutes you perhaps not get
+another jance.”  After this dictum, he stood looking into the night, his
+glass gripped in his left hand, and in his right a half-smoked-out cigar,
+which he put to his mouth mechanically now and then, but drew no smoke
+from it.  The missionary too looked at the rocks with increased interest,
+and the Arab pilot staggering up the ladder to the bridge stolidly
+pointed to the surf, and gave us his opinion, that “he, the captain and
+the faqui would soon be past the help of prayer,” piously adding, “that
+it seemed Allah’s will; although he thought the Kaffirs, sons of burnt
+Kaffirs, in the stoke-hole were not firing up.”
+
+With groans and heavings, with long shivers which came over her as the
+sea struck her on the beam, the vessel fought for her life, belching
+great clouds of smoke out into the clear night air.  Captain and
+missionary, pilot and crew, stood gazing at the sea; the captain now and
+then yelling some unintelligible Platt-Deutsch order down the tube; the
+missionary fumbling with a Bible lettered “Polyglot,” covered in black
+oil-cloth; and the pilot passing his beads between the fingers of his
+right hand, his eyes apparently not seeing anything; and it seemed as if
+another twenty minutes must have seen them all upon the rocks.
+
+But Allah perhaps was on the watch; and the wind falling for an instant,
+or the burnt Kaffirs in the stoke-hole having struck a better vein of
+coal, the rusty iron sea-coffin slowly gathered headway, staggered as the
+engines driven to the highest pressure seemed to tear out her ribs, and
+forged ahead.  Then lurching in the sea, the screw occasionally racing
+with a roar, and the black decks dripping and under water, the scuppers
+being choked with the filth of years, she sidled out to sea, and rose and
+fell in the long rollers outside the harbour, which came in from the
+west.  Rindelhaus set her on her course, telling the Arab helmsman in the
+pigeon-English which served them as a means of interchanging their few
+ideas, “to keep her head north and by west a little northerly, and let
+him know when they were abreast of Jibel Hadid;” adding a condemnation of
+the Arab race in general and the particular sailor, whom he characterized
+as a “tamned heaven dog, not worth his kraut.”  The sailor, dressed in
+loose Arab trousers and a blue jersey, the whole surmounted by a greasy
+fez, replied: “Yes, him know Jibel Hadid, captain, him keep her head
+north and by west all right,” and probably also consigned the captain and
+the whole Germanic race to the hottest corner of Jehannum, and so both
+men were pleased.  The boarhound gambolled on the deck, Matilda peeped up
+the companion, her dripping wooden shoes looking like waterlogged canoes,
+and the Scotch missionary began to walk about, holding his monstrous hat
+on with one hand and hugging the oilskin-covered “Polyglot” under his
+left arm.  Crossing the skipper in his walk, in a more cheerful humour he
+ventured to remark: “Eh! captain, maybe I could mak’ a shape at yon glass
+of beer the now.”  But things had changed, and Rindelhaus looked at him
+with the usual uncondescending bearing of the seaman to the mere
+passenger, and said: “Nein, you loose your obbordunity for dat glass
+beer, my friend, and now I have to navigate my ship.”
+
+The _Oldenburg_ pursued the devious tenor of her way, touching at ports
+which all were either open roadsteads or had bars on which the surf
+boiled with a noise like thunder; receiving cargo in driblets, a sack or
+two of marjoram, a bale of goatskins or of hides, two or three bags of
+wool, and sometimes waiting for a day or two unable to communicate until
+the surf went down.  The captain spent his time in harbour fishing
+uninterestedly, catching great bearded spiky-finned sea-monsters which he
+left to die upon the deck.  Not that he was hard-hearted, but merely
+unimaginative, after the way of those who, loving sport for the pleasure
+it affords themselves, hotly deny that it is cruel, or that it can
+occasion inconvenience to any participator in a business which they
+themselves enjoy.  So the poor innocent sea-monsters floundered in slimy
+agony upon the deck; the boarhound and the cats taking a share in
+martyring them, tearing and biting at them as they gasped their lives
+away; condemned to agony for some strange reason, or perhaps because, as
+every living thing is born to suffer, they were enduring but their fair
+proportion, as they happened to be fish.  Pathetic but unwept, the
+tragedy of all the animals, and we but links in the same chain with them,
+look at it all as unconcerned as gods.  But as the bearded spiky fish
+gasped on the deck the missionary tried to abridge their agony with a
+belaying-pin; covering himself with blood and slime, and setting up the
+back of Captain Rindelhaus, who vowed his deck should not be hammered
+“like a skidel alley, all for the sake of half-a-dozen fish, which would
+be dead in half-an-hour and eaten by the cats.”
+
+The marvels of our commerce, in the shape of Waterbury watches, scissors
+and looking-glasses, beads, Swiss clocks, and musical-boxes, all duly
+dumped, and the off-scouring of the trade left by the larger ships duly
+received on board, the _Oldenburg_ stumbled out to sea if the wind was
+not too strong, and squirmed along the coast.  Occasionally upon arrival
+at a port the sound of psalmody was heard, and a missionary boat put off
+to pass the time of God with their brother on the ship.  Then came the
+greetings, as the whole party sat on the fiddlee gratings jammed up
+against the funnel; the latest news from the Cowcaddens and the gossip
+from along the coast was duly interchanged.  Gaunt-featured girls,
+removed by physical conditions from all temptation, sat and talked with
+scraggy, freckled, and pith-hatted men.  It was all conscience, and
+relatively tender heart, and as the moon lit up the dirty decks, they
+paraded up and down, happy once more to be secure even for a brief space
+from insult, and to feel themselves at home.  Dressed in white blouses,
+innocent of stays, with skirts which no belt known to milliners could
+ever join to the body or the blouse; with smaller-sized pith hats,
+sand-shoes and spectacles; their hands in Berlin gloves, and freckles
+reaching far down upon their necks, they formed a crushing argument in
+their own persons against polygamy.  Still, in the main, all kindly
+souls, and some with a twinkle in their white-eyelashed steel-grey eyes,
+as of a Congregationalist bull-terrier, which showed you that they would
+gladly suffer martyrdom without due cause, or push themselves into great
+danger, out of sheer ignorance and want of knowledge of mankind.  Life’s
+misfits, most of them; their hands early inured to typewriting machines,
+their souls, as they would say, “sair hodden doon in prayer;” carefully
+educated to be ashamed of any scrap of womanhood they might possess.
+Still they were sympathetic, for sympathy is near akin to tears, and
+looking at them one divined they must have shed tears plentifully, enough
+to wash away any small sins they had committed in their lives.
+
+The men, sunburnt yet sallow, seemed nourished on tinned meats and
+mineral table-waters; their necks scraggy and red protruded from their
+collars like those of vultures; they carried umbrellas in their hands
+from early habit of a wet climate, and seemed as if they had been chosen
+after much cogitation by some unskilled commission, for their unfitness
+for their task.
+
+They too, dogged and narrow-minded as they were, were yet pathetic, when
+one thought upon their lives.  No hope of converts, or of advancement in
+the least degree, stuck down upon the coast, far off from Dorcas
+meetings, school-feasts, or anything which in more favoured countries
+whiles away the Scripture-reader’s time; they hammered at their
+self-appointed business day by day and preached unceasingly, apparently
+indifferent to anything that passed, so that they got off their due
+quantity of words a day.  In course of time, and after tea and
+bread-and-butter had been consumed, they got into their boat, struck up
+the tune of “Sidna Aissa Hobcum,” and from the taffrail McKerrochar saw
+them depart, joining in the chorus lustily and waving a dirty
+handkerchief until they faded out of sight.  Mr. McKerrochar, one of
+those Scottish professional religionists, whom early training or their
+own “damnable iteration” has convinced of all the doctrine that they
+preach, formed a last relic of a disappearing type.  The antiquated
+out-and-out doctrine of Hellfire and of Paradise, the jealous Scottish
+God, and the Mosaic Dispensation which he accepted whole, tinged slightly
+with the current theology of Airdrie or Coatbridge, made him a formidable
+adversary to the trembling infidel, in religious strife.  In person he
+was tall and loosely built, his trousers bagging at the knees as if a
+horse’s hock had been inside the cloth.  Wrong-headed as befits his
+calling, he yet saw clearly enough in business matters, and might have
+marked a flock of heathen sheep had he applied his business aptitude to
+his religious work, or on the other hand he might have made a fortune had
+he chanced to be a rogue.  He led a joyless stirring life, striving
+towards ideals which have made the world a quagmire; yet worked towards
+them with that simple faith which makes a man ten thousand times more
+dangerous, in his muddle-headed course.  Abstractions which he called
+duty, morality, and self-sacrifice, ruled all his life; forcing him ever
+onward to occupy himself with things which really he had no concern with;
+and making him neglect himself and the more human qualities of courtesy
+and love.  And so he stood, waving his pocket-handkerchief long after the
+strains of “Sidna Aissa Hobcum” had melted into the night air; his arms
+still waving as the sails of windmills move round once or twice, but
+haltingly, after the wind has dropped.  Perhaps that class of man seldom
+or never chews the cud either of sweet or bitter recollection; and if, as
+in McKerrochar’s case, he is deprived of whisky in which to drown his
+cares, the last impression gone, his mind hammers away, like the keys of
+a loose typewriter under a weary operator’s hands, half aimlessly, till
+circumstances place new copy under its roller, and it starts off again to
+work.
+
+He might have gone on waving right through the dog-watch had not the
+captain with a rough ejaculation stopped his arm.  “Himmel, what for a
+semaphore, Herr missionary, is dat; and you gry too, when you look at dat
+going-way boat . . .  Well, have a glass of beer.  I tell you it is not
+good to look at boats and gry for noddings, for men that have an ugly
+yellow beard like yours and mine.”
+
+“I was na greetin’, captain,” said the missionary, furtively wiping his
+face; “it was just ane of thae clinkers, I think thae ca’ the things, has
+got into my eye.”
+
+“Glinkers, mein friend, do not get into people’s eyes when der ship is
+anchored,” Rindelhaus replied; “still I know as you feel, but not for
+missionary boats.  You not know Oldenburg eh?  Pretta place; not far from
+Bremerhaven.  Oldenburg is one of the prettaest places in the world.  I
+live dere.  Hour and half by drain, oot from de port.  I just can see the
+vessels’ masts and the funnel smoke as they pass oop and down the stream.
+I think I should not care too much to live where man can see no ships.
+Yes, yes, ah, here come Matilda mit de beer.  Mein herz, you put him down
+here on dis bale of marjoram, and you goes off to bed.  I speak here mit
+de Herr missionary, who gry for noddings when he look at missionary boat
+go off into de night.
+
+“Ah, Oldenburg, ja, yes, I live there.  Meine wife she live there, and
+meine littel Gretchen, she about den or twelve, I don’t remember which.
+Prosit, Herr missionary, you have no wife; no littel Gretchen, eh?  So,
+so, dat is perhaps better for a missionary.”
+
+The two sat looking at nothing, thinking in the painful ruminant way of
+semi-educated men, the captain’s burly North-German figure stretched on a
+cane deck-chair.  About a captain’s age he was, that is, his beard had
+just begun to grizzle, and his nose was growing red, the bunions on his
+feet knotted his boots into protuberances, after the style of those who
+pass their lives about a deck.  In height above six feet,
+broad-shouldered and red-faced, his voice of the kind with which a
+huntsman rates a dog, his clothes bought at a Bremerhaven slop-shop, his
+boots apparently made by a portmanteau-maker, and in his pocket was a
+huge silver keyless watch which he said was a “gronometer,” and keep de
+Bremen time.  Instant in prayer and cursing; pious yet blasphemous;
+kindly but brutal in the Teutonic way; he kicked his crew about as they
+had all been dogs, and yet looked after the tall stewardess Matilda as
+she had been his child; guarding her virtue from the assaults of
+passengers, and though alone with her in the small compass of a ship,
+respecting it himself.
+
+After an interval he broke into his subject, just as a phonograph takes
+up its interrupted tale, as if against its will.
+
+“So ja, yes, Oldenburg, pretta place; I not see it often though.  In all
+eight years I never stay more to my house than from de morning Saturday
+to Monday noon, and dat after a four months’ trip.
+
+“Meine wife, she getting little sdout, and not mind much, for she is
+immer washing; washing de linen, de house, de steps; she wash de whole
+ship oop only I never let her come to see.  The Gretchen she immer say,
+‘Father, why you not stop to home?’  You got no littel Gretchen, eh?  . . .
+Well, perhaps better so.  Last Christmas I was at Oldenburg.
+Christmas eve I buy one tree, and then I remember I have to go to sea
+next morning about eleven o’clock.  So I say nodings all the day, and
+about four o’clock the agent come and tell me that the company not wish
+me leave Oldenburg upon de Christmas day.  Then I was so much glad I
+think I wait to eat meine Christmas dinner with meine wife, and talk with
+Gretchen in the evening while I smoke my pipe.  The stove was burning,
+and the table stand ready mit sausage and mit bread and cheese, beer of
+course, and lax, dat lax they bring from Norway, and I think I have good
+time.  Then I think on de company, what they say if I take favour from
+them and go not out to sea; they throw it in my teeth for ever, and tell
+me, ‘Rindelhaus, you remember we was so good to you upon that Christmas
+day.’  I tell the agent thank you, but say I go to sea.  Meine wife: she
+gry and I say nodings, nodings to Gretchen, and sit down to take my tea.
+Morning, I tell my littel girl, then she gry bitterly and say, ‘What for
+you go to sea?’  I kiss meine wife and walk down to the quay; it just
+begin to snow; I curse the schelm sailors, de pilot come aboard, and we
+begin to warp into the stream.  Just then I hear a running on the quay,
+like as a Friesland pony come clattering on the stones.  I look up and
+see Gretchen mit her little wooden shoes.  She run down to the ship, and
+say, ‘Why you go sea, father, upon Christmas day?’ and I not able to say
+nodings but just to wave my hand.  We warp out into the stream, and she
+stand grying till she faded out of sight.  Sometimes I feel a liddel
+sorry about dat Christmas day . . .  But have another glass beer, Herr
+missionary, it always do me good.”  Wiping the froth from his moustache
+with his rough hand he went below, leaving the missionary alone upon the
+deck.
+
+The night descended, and the ship shrouded in mist grew ghostly and
+unnatural, whilst great drops of moisture hung on the backstays and the
+shrouds.
+
+The Arab crew lay sleeping, huddled round the windlass, looking mere
+masses of white dirty rags; the seaman keeping the anchor-watch loomed
+like a giant, and from the shore occasionally the voices of the guards at
+the town prison came through the mist, making the boarhound turn in his
+sleep and growl.  The missionary paced to and fro a little, settling his
+pith tureen-shaped hat upon his head, and fastening a woollen comforter
+about his neck.
+
+Then going to the rail, he looked into the night where the boat bearing
+off his brethren had disappeared; his soul perhaps wandering towards some
+Limbo as he gazed, and his elastic-sided boots fast glued to the dirty
+decks by the half-dried-up blood of the discarded fish.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOLD FISH
+
+
+OUTSIDE the little straw-thatched _café_ in a small courtyard trellised
+with vines, before a miniature table painted in red and blue, and upon
+which stood a dome-shaped pewter teapot and a painted glass half filled
+with mint, sat Amarabat, resting and smoking hemp.  He was of those whom
+Allah in his mercy (or because man in the Blad-Allah has made no
+railways) has ordained to run.  Set upon the road, his shoes pulled up,
+his waistband tightened, in his hand a staff, a palm-leaf wallet at his
+back, and in it bread, some hemp, a match or two (known to him as el
+spiritus), and a letter to take anywhere, crossing the plains, fording
+the streams, struggling along the mountain-paths, sleeping but fitfully,
+a burning rope steeped in saltpetre fastened to his foot, he trotted day
+and night—untiring as a camel, faithful as a dog.  In Rabat as he sat
+dozing, watching the greenish smoke curl upwards from his hemp pipe, word
+came to him from the Khalifa of the town.  So Amarabat rose, paid for his
+tea with half a handful of defaced and greasy copper coins, and took his
+way towards the white palace with the crenelated walls, which on the
+cliff, hanging above the roaring tide-rip, just inside the bar of the
+great river, looks at Salee.  Around the horseshoe archway of the gate
+stood soldiers, wild, fierce-eyed, armed to the teeth, descendants, most
+of them, of the famed warriors whom Sultan Muley Ismail (may God have
+pardoned him!) bred for his service, after the fashion of the Carlylean
+hero Frederic; and Amarabat walked through them, not aggressively, but
+with the staring eyes of a confirmed hemp-smoker, with the long stride of
+one who knows that he is born to run, and the assurance of a man who
+waits upon his lord.  Some time he waited whilst the Khalifa dispensed
+what he thought justice, chaffered with Jewish pedlars for cheap European
+goods, gossiped with friends, looked at the antics of a dwarf, or priced
+a Georgian or Circassian girl brought with more care than glass by some
+rich merchant from the East.  At last Amarabat stood in the presence, and
+the Khalifa, sitting upon a pile of cushions playing with a Waterbury
+watch, a pistol and a Koran by his side, addressed him thus:—
+
+“Amarabat, son of Bjorma, my purpose is to send thee to Tafilet, where
+our liege lord the Sultan lies with his camp.  Look upon this glass bowl
+made by the Kaffir, but clear as is the crystal of the rock; see how the
+light falls on the water, and the shifting colours that it makes, as when
+the Bride of the Rain stands in the heavens, after a shower in spring.
+Inside are seven gold fish, each scale as bright as letters in an Indian
+book.  The Christian from whom I bought them said originally they came
+from the Far East where the Djin-descended Jawi live, the little yellow
+people of the faith.  That may be, but such as they are, they are a gift
+for kings.  Therefore, take thou the bowl.  Take it with care, and bear
+it as it were thy life.  Stay not, but in an hour start from the town.
+Delay not on the road, be careful of the fish, change not their water at
+the muddy pool where tortoises bask in the sunshine, but at running
+brooks; talk not to friends, look not upon the face of woman by the way,
+although she were as a gazelle, or as the maiden who when she walked
+through the fields the sheep stopped feeding to admire.  Stop not, but
+run through day and night, pass through the Atlas at the Glaui; beware of
+frost, cover the bowl with thine own haik; upon the other side shield me
+the bowl from the Saharan sun, and drink not of the water if thou pass a
+day athirst when toiling through the sand.  Break not the bowl, and see
+the fish arrive in Tafilet, and then present them, with this letter, to
+our lord.  Allah be with you, and his Prophet; go, and above all things
+see thou breakest not the bowl.”  And Amarabat, after the manner of his
+kind, taking the bowl of gold fish, placed one hand upon his heart and
+said: “Inshallah, it shall be as thou hast said.  God gives the feet and
+lungs.  He also gives the luck upon the road.”
+
+So he passed out under the horseshoe arch, holding the bowl almost at
+arm’s length so as not to touch his legs, and with the palmetto string by
+which he carried it, bound round with rags.  The soldiers looked at him,
+but spoke not, and their eyes seemed to see far away, and to pass over
+all in the middle distance, though no doubt they marked the smallest
+detail of his gait and dress.  He passed between the horses of the guard
+all standing nodding under the fierce sun, the reins tied to the cantles
+of their high red saddles, a boy in charge of every two or three: he
+passed beside the camels resting by the well, the donkeys standing
+dejected by the firewood they had brought: passed women, veiled white
+figures going to the baths; and passing underneath the lofty gateway of
+the town, exchanged a greeting with the half-mad, half-religious beggar
+just outside the walls, and then emerged upon the sandy road, between the
+aloe hedges, which skirts along the sea.  So as he walked, little by
+little he fell into his stride; then got his second wind, and smoking now
+and then a pipe of hemp, began, as Arabs say, to cat the miles, his eyes
+fixed on the horizon, his stick stuck down between his shirt and back,
+the knob protruding over the left shoulder like the hilt of a two-handed
+sword.  And still he held the precious bowl from Franquestan in which the
+golden fish swam to and fro, diving and circling in the sunlight, or
+flapped their tails to steady themselves as the water danced with the
+motion of his steps.  Never before in his experience had he been charged
+with such a mission, never before been sent to stand before Allah’s
+vicegerent upon earth.  But still the strangeness of his business was
+what preoccupied him most.  The fish like molten gold, the water to be
+changed only at running streams, the fish to be preserved from frost and
+sun; and then the bowl: had not the Khalifa said at the last, “Beware,
+break not the bowl”?  So it appeared to him that most undoubtedly a charm
+was in the fish and in the bowl, for who sends common fish on such a
+journey through the land?  Then he resolved at any hazard to bring them
+safe and keep the bowl intact, and trotting onward, smoked his hemp, and
+wondered why he of all men should have had the luck to bear the precious
+gift.  He knew he kept his law, at least as far as a poor man can keep
+it, prayed when he thought of prayer, or was assailed by terror in the
+night alone upon the plains; fasted in Ramadan, although most of his life
+was one continual fast; drank of the shameful but seldom, and on the sly,
+so as to give offence to no believer, and seldom looked upon the face of
+the strange women, Daughters of the Illegitimate, whom Sidna Mohammed
+himself has said, avoid.  But all these things he knew were done by many
+of the faithful, and so he did not set himself up as of exceeding virtue,
+but rather left the praise to God, who helped his slave with strength to
+keep his law.  Then left off thinking, judging the matter was ordained,
+and trotted, trotted over the burning plains, the gold fish dancing in
+the water as the miles melted and passed away.
+
+Duar and Kasbah, castles of the Caids, Arabs’ black tents, suddra
+zaribas, camels grazing—antediluvian in appearance—on the little hills,
+the muddy streams edged all along the banks with oleanders, the solitary
+horsemen holding their long and brass-hooped guns like spears, the
+white-robed noiseless-footed travellers on the roads, the chattering
+storks upon the village mosques, the cow-birds sitting on the cattle in
+the fields—he saw, but marked not, as he trotted on.  Day faded into
+night, no twilight intervening, and the stars shone out, Soheil and Rigel
+with Betelgeuse and Aldebaran, and the three bright lamps which the
+cursed Christians know as the Three Maries—called, he supposed, after the
+mother of their Prophet; and still he trotted on.  Then by the side of a
+lone palm-tree springing up from a cleft in a tall rock, an island on the
+plain, he stopped to pray; and sleeping, slept but fitfully, the
+strangeness of the business making him wonder; and he who cavils over
+matters in the night can never rest, for thus the jackal and the hyena
+pass their nights talking and reasoning about the thoughts which fill
+their minds when men lie with their faces covered in their haiks, and
+after prayer sleep.  Rising after an hour or two and going to the nearest
+stream, he changed the water of his fish, leaving a little in the bottom
+of the bowl, and dipping with his brass drinking-cup into the stream for
+fear of accidents.  He passed the Kasbah of el Daudi, passed the land of
+the Rahamna, accursed folk always in “siba,” saw the great snowy wall of
+Atlas rise, skirted Marakesh, the Kutubieh, rising first from the plain
+and sinking last from sight as he approached the mountains and left the
+great white city sleeping in the plain.
+
+Little by little the country altered as he ran: cool streams for muddy
+rivers, groves of almond-trees, ashes and elms, with grape-vines binding
+them together as the liana binds the canela and the urunday in the dark
+forests of Brazil and Paraguay.  At mid-day, when the sun was at its
+height, when locusts, whirring through the air, sank in the dust as
+flying-fish sink in the waves, when palm-trees seem to nod their heads,
+and lizards are abroad drinking the heat and basking in the rays, when
+the dry air shimmers, and sparks appear to dance before the traveller’s
+eye, and a thin, reddish dust lies on the leaves, on clothes of men, and
+upon every hair of horses’ coats, he reached a spring.  A river springing
+from a rock, or issuing after running underground, had formed a little
+pond.  Around the edge grew bulrushes, great catmace, water-soldiers,
+tall arums and metallic-looking sedge-grass, which gave an air as of an
+outpost of the tropics lost in the desert sand.  Fish played beneath the
+rock where the stream issued, flitting to and fro, or hanging suspended
+for an instant in the clear stream, darted into the dark recesses of the
+sides; and in the middle of the pond enormous tortoises, horrid and
+antediluvian-looking, basked with their backs awash or raised their heads
+to snap at flies, and all about them hung a dark and fetid slime.
+
+A troop of thin brown Arab girls filled their tall amphora whilst washing
+in the pond.  Placing his bowl of fish upon a jutting rock, the messenger
+drew near.  “Gazelles,” he said, “will one of you give me fresh water for
+the Sultan’s golden fish?”  Laughing and giggling, the girls drew near,
+looked at the bowl, had never seen such fish.  “Allah is great; why do
+you not let them go in the pond and play a little with their brothers?”
+And Amarabat with a shiver answered, “Play, let them play! and if they
+come not back my life will answer for it.”  Fear fell upon the girls, and
+one advancing, holding the skirt of her long shift between her teeth to
+veil her face, poured water from her amphora upon the fish.
+
+Then Amarabat, setting down his precious bowl, drew from his wallet a
+pomegranate and began to eat, and for a farthing buying a piece of bread
+from the women, was satisfied, and after smoking, slept, and dreamed he
+was approaching Tafilet; he saw the palm-trees rising from the sand; the
+gardens; all the oasis stretching beyond his sight; at the edge the
+Sultan’s camp, a town of canvas, with the horses, camels, and the mules
+picketed, all in rows, and in the midst of the great “duar” the Sultan’s
+tent, like a great palace all of canvas, shining in the sun.  All this he
+saw, and saw himself entering the camp, delivering up his fish, perhaps
+admitted to the sacred tent, or at least paid by a vizier, as one who has
+performed his duty well.  The slow match blistering his foot, he woke to
+find himself alone, the “gazelles” departed, and the sun shining on the
+bowl, making the fish appear more magical, more wondrous, brighter, and
+more golden than before.
+
+And so he took his way along the winding Atlas paths, and slept at
+Demnats, then, entering the mountains, met long trains of travellers
+going to the south.  Passing through groves of chestnuts, walnut-trees,
+and hedges thick with blackberries and travellers’ joy, he climbed
+through vineyards rich with black Atlas grapes, and passed the flat
+mud-built Berber villages nestling against the rocks.  Eagles flew by and
+moufflons gazed at him from the peaks, and from the thickets of lentiscus
+and dwarf arbutus wild boars appeared, grunted, and slowly walked across
+the path, and still he climbed, the icy wind from off the snow chilling
+him in his cotton shirt, for his warm Tadla haik was long ago wrapped
+round the bowl to shield the precious fish.  Crossing the Wad Ghadat, the
+current to his chin, his bowl of fish held in one hand, he struggled on.
+The Berber tribesmen at Tetsula and Zarkten, hard-featured, shaved but
+for a chin-tuft, and robed in their “achnifs” with the curious eye woven
+in the skirt, saw he was a “rekass,” or thought the fish not worth their
+notice, so gave him a free road.  Night caught him at the stone-built,
+antediluvian-looking Kasbah of the Glaui, perched in the eye of the pass,
+with the small plain of Teluet two thousand feet below.  Off the high
+snow-peaks came a whistling wind, water froze solid in all the pots and
+pans, earthenware jars and bottles throughout the castle, save in the
+bowl which Amarabat, shivering and miserable, wrapped in his haik and
+held close to the embers, hearing the muezzin at each call to prayers;
+praying himself to keep awake so that his fish might live.  Dawn saw him
+on the trail, the bowl wrapped in a woollen rag, and the fish fed with
+bread-crumbs, but himself hungry and his head swimming with want of
+sleep, with smoking “kief,” and with the bitter wind which from El Tisi
+N’Glaui flagellates the road.  Right through the valley of Teluet he
+still kept on, and day and night still trotting, trotting on, changing
+his bowl almost instinctively from hand to hand, a broad leaf floating on
+the top to keep the water still, he left Agurzga, with its twin castles,
+Ghresat and Dads, behind.  Then rapidly descending, in a day reached an
+oasis between Todghra and Ferkla, and rested at a village for the night.
+Sheltered by palm-trees and hedged round with cactuses and aloes, either
+to keep out thieves or as a symbol of the thorniness of life, the village
+lay, looking back on the white Atlas gaunt and mysterious, and on the
+other side towards the brown Sahara, land of the palm-tree
+(Belad-el-Jerid), the refuge of the true Ishmaelite; for in the desert,
+learning, good faith, and hospitality can still be found—at least, so
+Arabs say.
+
+Orange and azofaifa trees, with almonds, sweet limes and walnuts, stood
+up against the waning light, outlined in the clear atmosphere almost so
+sharply as to wound the eye.  Around the well goats and sheep lay, whilst
+a girl led a camel round the Noria track; women sat here and there and
+gossiped, with their tall earthenware jars stuck by the point into the
+ground, and waited for their turn, just as they did in the old times, so
+far removed from us, but which in Arab life is but as yesterday, when
+Jacob cheated Esau, and the whole scheme of Arab life was photographed
+for us by the writers of the Pentateuch.  In fact, the self-same scene
+which has been acted every evening for two thousand years throughout
+North Africa, since the adventurous ancestors of the tribesmen of to-day
+left Hadrumut or Yemen, and upon which Allah looks down approvingly, as
+recognizing that the traditions of his first recorded life have been well
+kept.  Next day he trotted through the barren plain of Seddat, the Jibel
+Saghra making a black line on the horizon to the south.  Here Berber
+tribes sweep in their razzias like hawks; but who would plunder a rekass
+carrying a bowl of fish?  Crossing the dreary plain and dreaming of his
+entry into Tafilet, which now was almost in his reach not two days
+distant, the sun beating on his head, the water almost boiling in the
+bowl, hungry and footsore, and in the state betwixt waking and sleep into
+which those who smoke hemp on journeys often get, he branched away upon a
+trail leading towards the south.  Between the oases of Todghra and
+Ferkla, nothing but stone and sand, black stones on yellow sand; sand,
+and yet more sand, and then again stretches of blackish rocks with a
+suddra bush or two, and here and there a colocynth, bitter and beautiful
+as love or life, smiling up at the traveller from amongst the stones.
+Towards midday the path led towards a sandy tract all overgrown with
+sandrac bushes and crossed by trails of jackals and hyenas, then it quite
+disappeared, and Amarabat waking from his dream saw he was lost.  Like a
+good shepherd, his first thought was for his fish; for he imagined the
+last few hours of sun had made them faint, and one of them looked heavy
+and swam sideways, and the rest kept rising to the surface in an uneasy
+way.  Not for a moment was Amarabat frightened, but looked about for some
+known landmark, and finding none started to go back on his trail.  But to
+his horror the wind which always sweeps across the Sahara had covered up
+his tracks, and on the stony paths which he had passed his feet had left
+no prints.  Then Amarabat, the first moments of despair passed by, took a
+long look at the horizon, tightened his belt, pulled up his slipper
+heels, covered his precious bowl with a corner of his robe, and started
+doggedly back upon the road he thought he traversed on the deceitful
+path.  How long he trotted, what he endured, whether the fish died first,
+or if he drank, or, faithful to the last, thirsting met death, no one can
+say.  Most likely wandering in the waste of sandhills and of suddra
+bushes he stumbled on, smoking his hashish while it lasted, turning to
+Mecca at the time of prayer, and trotting on more feebly (for he was born
+to run), till he sat down beneath the sun-dried bushes where the
+Shinghiti on his Mehari found him dead beside the trail.  Under a stunted
+sandarac tree, the head turned to the east, his body lay, swollen and
+distorted by the pangs of thirst, the tongue protruding rough as a
+parrot’s, and beside him lay the seven golden fish, once bright and
+shining as the pure gold when the goldsmith pours it molten from his pot,
+but now turned black and bloated, stiff, dry, and dead.  Life the
+mysterious, the mocking, the inscrutable, unseizable, the uncomprehended
+essence of nothing and of everything, had fled, both from the faithful
+messenger and from his fish.  But the Khalifa’s parting caution had been
+well obeyed, for by the tree, unbroken, the crystal bowl still glistened
+beautiful as gold, in the fierce rays of the Saharan sun.
+
+
+
+
+A HEGIRA
+
+
+THE giant cypresses, tall even in the time of Montezuma, the castle of
+Chapultepec upon its rock (an island in the plain of Mexico), the
+panorama of the great city backed by the mountain range; the two
+volcanoes, the Popocatepetl and the Istacihuatl, and the lakes; the
+tigers in their cages, did not interest me so much as a small courtyard,
+in which, ironed and guarded, a band of Indians of the Apache tribe were
+kept confined.  Six warriors, a woman and a boy, captured close to
+Chihuahua, and sent to Mexico, the Lord knows why; for generally an
+Apache captured was shot at once, following the frontier rule, which
+without difference of race was held on both sides of the Rio Grande, that
+a good Indian must needs be dead.
+
+Silent and stoical the warriors sat, not speaking once in a whole day,
+communicating but by signs; naked except the breech-clout; their eyes
+apparently opaque, and looking at you without sight, but seeing
+everything; and their demeanour less reassuring than that of the tigers
+in the cage hard by.  All could speak Spanish if they liked, some a word
+or two of English, but no one heard them say a word in either tongue.  I
+asked the nearest if he was a Mescalero, and received the answer:
+“Mescalero-hay,” and for a moment a gleam shone through their eyes, but
+vanished instantly, as when the light dies out of the wire in an electric
+lamp.  The soldier at the gate said they were “brutes”; all sons of dogs,
+infidels, and that for his part he could not see why the “Gobierno” went
+to the expense of keeping them alive.  He thought they had no sense; but
+in that showed his own folly, and acted after the manner of the
+half-educated man the whole world over, who knowing he can read and write
+thinks that the savage who cannot do so is but a fool; being unaware
+that, in the great book known as the world, the savage often is the
+better scholar of the two.
+
+But five-and-twenty years ago the Apache nation, split into its chief
+divisions of Mescaleros, Jicarillas, Coyoteros, and Lipanes, kept a great
+belt of territory almost five hundred miles in length, and of about
+thirty miles in breadth, extending from the bend of the Rio Gila to El
+Paso, in a perpetual war.  On both sides of the Rio Grande no man was
+safe; farms were deserted, cattle carried off, villages built by the
+Spaniards, and with substantial brick-built churches, mouldered into
+decay; mines were unworkable, and horses left untended for a moment were
+driven off in open day; so bold the thieves, that at one time they had a
+settled month for plundering, which they called openly the Moon of the
+Mexicans, though they did not on that account suspend their operations at
+other seasons of the year.  Cochise and Mangas-Coloradas, Naked Horse,
+Cuchillo Negro, and others of their chiefs, were once far better known
+upon the frontiers than the chief senators of the congresses of either of
+the two republics; and in some instances these chiefs showed an
+intelligence, knowledge of men and things, which in another sphere would
+certainly have raised them high in the estimation of mankind.
+
+The Shis-Inday (the people of the woods), their guttural language, with
+its curious monosyllable “hay” which they tacked on to everything, as
+“Oro-hay” and “plata-hay”; their strange democracy, each man being chief
+of himself, and owning no allegiance to any one upon the earth; all now
+have almost passed away, destroyed and swallowed up by the “Inday pindah
+lichoyi” (the men of the white eyes), as they used to call the Americans
+and all those northerners who ventured into their territory to look for
+“yellow iron.”  I saw no more of the Apaches, and except once, never
+again met any one of them; but as I left the place the thought came to my
+mind, if any of them succeed in getting out, I am certain that the six or
+seven hundred miles between them and their country will be as nothing to
+them, and that their journey thither will be marked with blood.
+
+At Huehuetoca I joined the mule-train, doing the twenty miles which in
+those days was all the extent of railway in the country to the north, and
+lost my pistol in a crowd just as I stepped into the train, some “lepero”
+having abstracted it out of my belt when I was occupied in helping five
+strong men to get my horse into a cattle-truck.  From Huehuetoca we
+marched to Tula, and there camped for the night, sleeping in a “meson”
+built like an Eastern fondak round a court, and with a well for watering
+the beasts in the centre of the yard.  I strolled about the curious town,
+in times gone by the Aztec capital, looked at the churches, built like
+fortresses, and coming back to the “meson” before I entered the cell-like
+room without a window, and with a plaster bench on which to spread one’s
+saddle and one’s rugs, I stopped to talk with a knot of travellers
+feeding their animals on barley and chopped straw, grouped round a fire,
+and the whole scene lit up and rendered Rembrandtesque by the fierce glow
+of an “ocote” torch.  So talking of the Alps and Apennines, or, more
+correctly, speaking of the Sierra Madre, and the mysterious region known
+as the Bolson de Mapimi, a district in those days as little known as is
+the Sus to-day, a traveller drew near.  Checking his horse close by the
+fire, and getting off it gingerly, for it was almost wild, holding the
+hair “mecate” in his hand, he squatted down, the horse snorting and
+hanging back, and setting rifle and “machete” jingling upon the saddle,
+he began to talk.
+
+“Ave Maria purisima, had we heard the news?”  What! a new revolution?
+Had Lerdo de Tejada reappeared again? or had Cortinas made another raid
+on Brownsville? the Indios Bravos harried Chihuahua? or had the silver
+“conduct” coming from the mines been robbed?  “Nothing of this, but a
+voice ran (corria una voz) that the Apache infidels confined in the
+courtyard of the castle of Chapultepec had broken loose.  Eight of them,
+six warriors, a woman and a boy, had slipped their fetters, murdered two
+of the guard, and were supposed to be somewhere not far from Tula, and,
+as he thought, making for the Bolson de Mapimi, the deserts of the Rio
+Gila, or the recesses of the mountains of the Santa Rosa range.”
+
+Needless to say this put all in the meson almost beside themselves; for
+the terror that the Indians inspired was at that time so real, that had
+the eight forlorn and helpless infidels appeared I verily believe they
+would have killed us all.  Not that we were not brave, well armed—in
+fact, all loaded down with arms, carrying rifles and pistols, swords
+stuck between our saddle-girths, and generally so fortified as to
+resemble walking arsenals.  But valour is a thing of pure convention, and
+these men who would have fought like lions against marauders of their own
+race, scarce slept that night for thinking on the dangers which they ran
+by the reported presence of those six naked men.  The night passed by
+without alarm, as was to be expected, seeing that the courtyard wall of
+the meson was at least ten feet high, and the gate solid “ahuehuete”
+clamped with iron, and padlocked like a jail.  At the first dawn, or
+rather at the first false dawn, when the fallacious streaks of pink flash
+in the sky and fade again to night, all were afoot.  Horsemen rode out,
+sitting erect in their peaked saddles, toes stuck out and thrust into
+their curiously stamped toe-leathers; their “chaparreras” giving to their
+legs a look of being cased in armour, their “poblano” hats, with bands of
+silver or of tinsel, balanced like halos on their heads.
+
+Long trains of donkeys, driven by Indians dressed in leather, and
+bareheaded, after the fashion of their ancestors, crawled through the
+gate laden with “pulque,” and now and then a single Indian followed by
+his wife set off on foot, carrying a crate of earthenware by a broad
+strap depending from his head.  Our caravan, consisting of six
+two-wheeled mule-carts, drawn by a team of six or sometimes eight
+gaily-harnessed mules, and covered with a tilt made from the “istle,”
+creaked through the gate.  The great meson remained deserted, and by
+degrees, as a ship leaves the coast, we struck into the wild and stony
+desert country, which, covered with a whitish dust of alkali, makes Tula
+an oasis; then the great church sank low, and the tall palm-trees seemed
+to grow shorter; lastly church, palms and towers, and the green fields
+planted with aloes, blended together and sank out of sight, a faint white
+misty spot marking their whereabouts, till at last it too faded and
+melted into the level plain.
+
+Travellers in a perpetual stream we met journeying to Mexico, and every
+now and then passed a straw-thatched “jacal,” where women sat selling
+“atole,” that is a kind of stirabout of pine-nut meal and milk, and
+dishes seasoned hot with red pepper, with “tortillas” made on the
+“metate” of the Aztecs, to serve as bread and spoons.  The infidels, it
+seemed, had got ahead of us, and when we slept had been descried making
+towards the north; two of them armed with bows which they had roughly
+made with sticks, the string twisted out of “istle,” and the rest with
+clubs, and what astonished me most was that behind them trotted a white
+dog.  Outside San Juan del Rio, which we reached upon the second day, it
+seemed that in the night the homing Mescaleros had stolen a horse, and
+two of them mounting upon him had ridden off, leaving the rest of the
+forlorn and miserable band behind.  How they had lived so far in the
+scorched alkali-covered plains, how they managed to conceal themselves by
+day, or how they steered by night, no one could tell; for the interior
+Mexican knows nothing of the desert craft, and has no idea that there is
+always food of some kind for an Apache, either by digging roots, snaring
+small animals, or at the last resort by catching locusts or any other
+insect he can find.  Nothing so easy as to conceal themselves; for
+amongst grass eight or nine inches high, they drop, and in an instant,
+even as you look, are lost to sight, and if hard pressed sometimes escape
+attention by standing in a cactus grove, and stretching out their arms,
+look so exactly like the plant that you may pass close to them and be
+unaware, till their bow twangs, and an obsidian-headed arrow whistles
+through the air.
+
+Our caravan rested a day outside San Juan del Rio to shoe the mules,
+repair the harness, and for the muleteers to go to mass or visit the
+“poblana” girls, who with flowers in their hair leaned out of every
+balcony of the half-Spanish, half-Oriental-looking town, according to
+their taste.  Not that the halt lost time, for travellers all know that
+“to hear mass and to give barley to your beasts loses no tittle of the
+day.”
+
+San Juan, the river almost dry, and trickling thirstily under its red
+stone bridges; the fields of aloes, the poplars, and the stunted palms;
+its winding street in which the houses, overhanging, almost touch; its
+population, which seemed to pass their time lounging wrapped in striped
+blankets up against the walls, was left behind.  The pulque-aloes and the
+sugar-canes grew scarcer, the road more desolate as we emerged into the
+“terra fria” of the central plain, and all the time the Sierra Madre,
+jagged and menacing, towered in the west.  In my mind’s eye I saw the
+Mescaleros trotting like wolves all through the night along its base,
+sleeping by day in holes, killing a sheep or goat when chance occurred,
+and following one another silent and stoical in their tramp towards the
+north.
+
+Days followed days as in a ship at sea; the waggons rolling on across the
+plains; and I jogging upon my horse, half sleeping in the sun, or
+stretched at night half dozing on a tilt, almost lost count of time.
+Somewhere between San Juan del Rio and San Luis Potosi we learned two of
+the Indians had been killed, but that the four remaining were still
+pushing onward, and in a little while we met a body of armed men carrying
+two ghastly heads tied by their scalp-locks to the saddle-bow.  Much did
+the slayers vaunt their prowess; telling how in a wood at break of day
+they had fallen in with all the Indians seated round a fire, and that
+whilst the rest fled, two had sprung on them, as they said, “after the
+fashion of wild beasts, armed one with a stick, and the other with a
+stone, and by God’s grace,” and here the leader crossed himself, “their
+aim had been successful, and the two sons of dogs had fallen, but most
+unfortunately the rest during the fight had managed to escape.”
+
+San Luis Potosi, the rainless city, once world-renowned for wealth, and
+even now full of fine buildings, churches and palaces, and with a
+swarming population of white-clothed Indians squatting to sell their
+trumpery in the great market-square, loomed up amongst its fringe of
+gardens, irrigated lands, its groves of pepper-trees, its palms, its
+wealth of flowering shrubs; its great white domes, giving an air of
+Bagdad or of Fez, shone in the distance, then grew nearer, and at last
+swallowed us up, as wearily we passed through the outskirts of the town,
+and halted underneath the walls.
+
+The city, then an oasis in the vast plateau of Anáhuac (now but a station
+on a railway-line), a city of enormous distances, of gurgling water led
+in stucco channels by the side of every street, of long expanses of
+“adobe” walls, of immense plazas, of churches and of bells, of countless
+convents; hedged in by mountains to the west, mouth of the “tierra
+caliente” to the east, and to the north the stopping-place for the long
+trains of waggons carrying cotton from the States; wrapped in a mist as
+of the Middle Ages, lay sleeping in the sun.  On every side the plain
+lapped like an ocean, and the green vegetation round the town stopped so
+abruptly that you could step almost at once from fertile meadows into a
+waste of whitish alkali.
+
+Above the town, in a foothill of the Sierra Madre about three leagues
+away, is situated the “Enchanted City,” never yet fouled by the foot of
+man, but yet existent, and believed in by all those who follow that best
+part of history, the traditions which have come down to us from the times
+when men were wise, and when imagination governed judgment, as it should
+do to-day, being the noblest faculty of the human mind.  Either want of
+time, or that belittling education from which few can escape, prevented
+me from visiting the place.  Yet I still think if rightly sought the city
+will be found, and I feel sure the Mescaleros passed the night not far
+from it, and perhaps looking down upon San Luis Potosi cursed it, after
+the fashion that the animals may curse mankind for its injustice to them.
+
+Tired of its squares, its long dark streets, its hum of people; and
+possessed perhaps with that nostalgia of the desert which comes so soon
+to all who once have felt its charm when cooped in bricks, we set our
+faces northward about an hour before the day, passed through the gates
+and rolled into the plains.  The mules well rested shook their bells, the
+leagues soon dropped behind, the muleteers singing “La Pasadita,” or an
+interminable song about a “Gachupin” {131} who loved a nun.
+
+The Mescaleros had escaped our thoughts—that is, the muleteers thought
+nothing of them; but I followed their every step, saw them crouched round
+their little fire, roasting the roots of wild “mescal”; marked them upon
+the march in single file, their eyes fixed on the plain, watchful and
+silent as they were phantoms gliding to the north.
+
+Crossing a sandy tract, the Capataz, who had long lived in the “Pimeria
+Alta,” and amongst the Maricopas on the Gila, drew up his horse and
+pointing to the ground said, “Viva Mexico!—look at these footmarks in the
+sand.  They are the infidels; see where the men have trod; here is the
+woman’s print and this the boy’s.  Look how their toes are all turned in,
+unlike the tracks of Christians.  This trail is a day old, and yet how
+fresh!  See where the boy has stumbled—thanks to the Blessed Virgin they
+must all be tired, and praise to God will die upon the road, either by
+hunger or some Christian hand.”  All that he spoke of was no doubt
+visible to him, but through my want of faith, or perhaps lack of
+experience, I saw but a faint trace of naked footsteps in the sand.  Such
+as they were, they seemed the shadow of a ghost, unstable and unreal, and
+struck me after the fashion that it strikes one when a man holds up a
+cane and tells you gravely, without a glimmering of the strangeness of
+the fact, that it came from Japan, actually grew there, and had leaves
+and roots, and was as little thought of as a mere ash-plant growing in a
+copse.
+
+At an “hacienda” upon the road, just where the trail leads off upon one
+hand to Matehuala, and on the other to Rio Verde, and the hot countries
+of the coast, we stopped to pass the hottest hours in sleep.  All was
+excitement; men came in, their horses flecked with foam; others were
+mounting, and all armed to the teeth, as if the Yankees had crossed the
+Rio Grande, and were marching on the place.  “Los Indios! si, señor,”
+they had been seen, only last night, but such the valour of the people of
+the place, they had passed on doing no further damage than to kill a
+lamb.  No chance of sleep in such a turmoil of alarm; each man had his
+own plan, all talked at once, most of them were half drunk, and when our
+Capataz asked dryly if they had thought of following the trail, a silence
+fell on all.  By this time, owing to the horsemen galloping about, the
+trail was cut on every side, and to have followed it would have tried the
+skill of an Apache tracker; but just then upon the plain a cloud of dust
+was seen.  Nearer it came, and then out of the midst of it horses
+appeared, arms flashed, and when nearing the place five or six men
+galloped up to the walls, and stopped their horses with a jerk.  “What
+news? have you seen anything of the Apaches?” and the chief rider of the
+gallant band, getting off slowly, and fastening up his horse, said, with
+an air of dignity, “At the ‘encrucijada,’ four leagues along the road,
+you will find one of them.  We came upon him sitting on a stone, too
+tired to move, called on him to surrender, but Indians have no sense, so
+he came at us tired as he was, and we, being valiant, fired, and he fell
+dead.  Then, that the law should be made manifest to all, we hung his
+body by the feet to a huisaché tree.”  Then compliments broke out and
+“Viva los valientes!” “Viva Mexico!” “Mueran los Indios salvajes!” and
+much of the same sort, whilst the five valiant men modestly took a drink,
+saying but little, for true courage does not show itself in talk.
+
+Leaving the noisy crew drinking confusion to their enemies, we rolled
+into the plain.  Four dusty leagues, and the huisaché tree growing by
+four cross trails came into sight.  We neared it, and to a branch, naked
+except his breech-clout, covered with bullet-wounds, we saw the Indian
+hang.  Half-starved he looked, and so reduced that from the bullet-holes
+but little blood had run; his feet were bloody, and his face hanging an
+inch or two above the ground distorted; flies buzzed about him, and in
+the sky a faint black line on the horizon showed that the vultures had
+already scented food.
+
+We left the nameless warrior hanging on his tree, and took our way across
+the plain, well pleased both with the “valour” of his slayers and the
+position of affairs in general in the world at large.  Right up and down
+the Rio Grande on both sides for almost a thousand miles the lonely cross
+upon some river-side, near to some thicket, or out in the wide plain,
+most generally is lettered “Killed by the Apaches,” and in the game they
+played so long, and still held trumps in at the time I write of, they,
+too, paid for all errors, in their play, by death.  But still it seemed a
+pity, savage as they were, that so much cunning, such stoical
+indifference to both death and life, should always finish as the warrior
+whom I saw hang by the feet from the huisaché, just where the road to
+Matehuala bifurcates, and the trail breaks off to El Jarral.  And so we
+took our road, passed La Parida, Matehuala, El Catorce, and still the
+sterile plateau spread out like a vast sea, the sparse and stunted bushes
+in the constant mirage looming at times like trees, at others seeming
+just to float above the sand; and as we rolled along, the mules
+struggling and straining in the whitish dust, we seemed to lose all trace
+of the Apaches; and at the lone hacienda or rare villages no one had
+heard of them, and the mysterious hegira of the party, now reduced to
+three, left no more traces of its passing than water which has closed
+upon the passage of a fish.
+
+Gomez Farias, Parras, El Llano de la Guerra, we passed alternately, and
+at length Saltillo came in sight, its towers standing up upon the plain
+after the fashion of a lighthouse in the sea; the bull-ring built under
+the Viceroys looking like a fort; and then the plateau of Anáhuac
+finished abruptly, and from the ramparts of the willow-shaded town the
+great green plains stretched out towards Texas in a vast panorama; whilst
+upon the west in the dim distance frowned the serrated mountains of Santa
+Rosa, and further still the impenetrable fastnesses of the Bolson de
+Mapimi.
+
+Next day we took the road for Monterey, descending in a day by the rough
+path known as “la cuesta de los fierros,” from the cold plateau to a land
+of palms, of cultivation, orange-groves, of fruit-trees, olive-gardens, a
+balmy air filled with the noise of running waters; and passing underneath
+the Cerro de la Silla which dominates the town, slept peacefully far from
+all thoughts of Indians and of perils of the road, in the great
+caravansary which at that time was the chief glory of the town of
+Monterey.  The city with its shady streets, its alameda planted with
+palm-trees, and its plaza all decorated with stuccoed plaster seats
+painted pale pink, and upon which during both day and night half of the
+population seemed to lounge, lay baking in the sun.
+
+Great teams of waggons driven by Texans creaked through the streets, the
+drivers dressed in a “défroque” of old town clothes, often a worn
+frock-coat and rusty trousers stuffed into cowboy boots, the whole
+crowned with an ignominious battered hat, and looking, as the Mexicans
+observed, like “pantomimas, que salen en las fiestas.”  Mexicans from
+down the coast, from Tamaulipas, Tuxpan, Vera Cruz and Guatzecoalcos
+ambled along on horses all ablaze with silver; and to complete the
+picture, a tribe of Indians, the Kickopoos, who had migrated from the
+north, and who occasionally rode through the town in single file, their
+rifles in their hands, and looking at the shops half longingly, half
+frightened, passed along without a word.
+
+But all the varied peoples, the curious half-wild, half-patriarchal life,
+the fruits and flowers, the strangeness of the place, could not divert my
+thoughts from the three lone pathetic figures, followed by their dog,
+which in my mind’s eye I saw making northward, as a wild goose finds its
+path in spring, leaving no traces of its passage by the way.  I wondered
+what they thought of, how they looked upon the world, if they respected
+all they saw of civilized communities upon their way, or whether they
+pursued their journey like a horse let loose returning to his birthplace,
+anxious alone about arriving at the goal.  So Monterey became a memory;
+the Cerro de la Silla last vanishing, when full five leagues upon the
+road.  The dusty plains all white with alkali, the grey-green
+sage-bushes, the salt and crystal-looking rivers, the Indians bending
+under burdens, and the women sitting at the cross roads selling
+tortillas—all now had changed.  Through oceans of tall grass, by muddy
+rivers in which alligators basked, by “bayous,” “resacas,” and by
+“bottoms” of alluvial soil, in which grew cotton-woods, black-jack, and
+post-oak, with gigantic willows; through countless herds of half-wild
+horses, lighting the landscape with their colours, and through a rolling
+prairie with vast horizons bounded by faint blue mountain chains, we took
+our way.  Out of the thickets of “mezquite” wild boars peered upon the
+path; rattlesnakes sounded their note of warning or lay basking in the
+sun; at times an antelope bounded across our track, and the rare villages
+were fortified with high mud walls, had gates, and sometimes drawbridges,
+for all the country we were passing through was subject to invasions of
+“los Indios Bravos,” and no one rode a mile without the chance of an
+attack.  When travellers met they zigzagged to and fro like battleships
+in the old days striving to get the “weather gauge,” holding their horses
+tightly by the head, and interchanging salutations fifty yards away,
+though if they happened to be Texans and Mexicans they only glared, or
+perhaps yelled an obscenity at one another in their different tongues.
+Advertisements upon the trees informed the traveller that the place to
+stop at was the “Old Buffalo Camp” in San Antonio, setting forth its
+whisky, its perfect safety both for man and beast, and adding curtly it
+was only a short four hundred miles away.  Here for the first time in our
+journey we sent out a rider about half-a-mile ahead to scan the route,
+ascend the little hills, keep a sharp eye on “Indian sign,” and give us
+warning by a timely shot, all to dismount, “corral” the waggons, and be
+prepared for an attack of Indians, or of the roaming bands of rascals who
+like pirates wandered on the plains.  Dust made us anxious, and smoke
+ascending in the distance set us all wondering if it was Indians, or a
+shepherd’s fire; at halting time no one strayed far from camp, and we sat
+eating with our rifles by our sides, whilst men on horseback rode round
+the mules, keeping them well in sight, as shepherds watch their sheep.
+About two leagues from Juarez a traveller bloody with spurring passed us
+carrying something in his hand; he stopped and held out a long arrow with
+an obsidian head, painted in various colours, and feathered in a peculiar
+way.  A consultation found it to be “Apache,” and the man galloped on to
+take it to the governor of the place to tell him Indians were about, or,
+as he shouted (following the old Spanish catchword), “there were Moors
+upon the coast.”
+
+Juarez we slept at, quite secure within the walls; started at daybreak,
+crossing the swiftly-running river just outside the town, at the first
+streak of light; journeyed all day, still hearing nothing of the
+retreating Mescaleros, and before evening reached Las Navas, which we
+found astir, all lighted up, and knots of people talking excitedly,
+whilst in the plaza the whole population seemed to be afoot.  At the long
+wooden tables set about with lights, where in a Mexican town at sundown
+an al fresco meal of kid stewed in red pepper, “tamales” and “tortillas,”
+is always laid, the talk was furious, and each man gave his opinion at
+the same time, after the fashion of the Russian Mir, or as it may be that
+we shall yet see done during debates in Parliament, so that all men may
+have a chance to speak, and yet escape the ignominy of their words being
+caught, set down, and used against them, after the present plan.  The
+Mescaleros had been seen passing about a league outside the town.  A
+shepherd lying hidden, watching his sheep, armed with a rifle, had spied
+them, and reported that they had passed close to him; the woman coming
+last and carrying in her arms a little dog; and he “thanked God and all
+His holy saints who had miraculously preserved his life.”  After the
+shepherd’s story, in the afternoon firing had been distinctly heard
+towards the small rancho of Las Crucecitas, which lay about three leagues
+further on upon the road.  All night the din of talk went on, and in the
+morning when we started on our way, full half the population went with us
+to the gate, all giving good advice; to keep a good look-out, if we saw
+dust to be certain it was Indians driving the horses stolen from Las
+Crucecitas, then to get off at once, corral the waggons, and above all to
+put our trust in God.  This we agreed to do, but wondered why out of so
+many valiant men not one of them proffered assistance, or volunteered to
+mount his horse and ride with us along the dangerous way.
+
+The road led upwards towards some foothills, set about with scrubby
+palms; not fifteen miles away rose the dark mountains of the Santa Rosa
+chain, and on a little hill the rancho stood, flat-roofed and white, and
+seemingly not more than a short league away, so clear the light, and so
+immense the scale of everything upon the rolling plain.  I knew that in
+the mountains the three Indians were safe, as the whole range was Indian
+territory; and as I saw them struggling up the slopes, the little dog
+following them footsore, hanging down its head, or carried as the
+shepherd said in the “she-devil’s” arms, I wished them luck after their
+hegira, planned with such courage, carried out so well, had ended, and
+they were back again amongst the tribe.
+
+Just outside Crucecitas we met a Texan who, as he told us, owned the
+place, and lived in “kornkewbinage with a native gal,” called, as he
+said, “Pastory,” who it appeared of all the females he had ever met was
+the best hand to bake “tortillers,” and whom, had she not been a
+Catholic, he would have made his wife.  All this without a question on
+our part, and sitting sideways on his horse, scanning the country from
+the corner of his eye.  He told us that he had “had right smart of an
+Indian trouble here yesterday just about afternoon.  Me and my ‘vaquerys’
+were around looking for an estray horse, just six of us, when close to
+the ranch we popped kermash right upon three red devils, and opened fire
+at once.  I hed a Winchester, and at the first fire tumbled the buck; he
+fell right in his tracks, and jest as I was taking off his scalp, I’m
+doggoned if the squaw and the young devil didn’t come at us jest like
+grizzly bars.  Wal, yes, killed ’em, o’ course, and anyhow the young ’un
+would have growed up; but the squaw I’me sort of sorry about.  I never
+could bear to kill a squaw, though I’ve often seen it done.  Naow here’s
+the all-firedest thing yer ever heard; jes’ as I was turning the bodies
+over with my foot a little Indian dog flies at us like a ‘painter,’ the
+varmint, the condemndest little buffler I ever struck.  I was for
+shootin’ him, but ‘Pastory’—that’s my ‘kornkewbyne’—she up and says it
+was a shame.  Wal, we had to bury them, for dead Injun stinks worst than
+turkey-buzzard, and the dodgasted little dog is sitting on the grave,
+’pears like he’s froze, leastwise he hastn’t moved since sun-up, when we
+planted the whole crew.”
+
+Under a palm-tree not far from the house the Indians’ grave was dug, upon
+it, wretched and draggled, sat the little dog.  “Pastory” tried to catch
+it all day long, being kind-hearted though a “kornkewbyne”; but, failing,
+said “God was not willing,” and retired into the house.  The hours seemed
+days in the accursed place till the sun rose, gilding the unreached Santa
+Rosa mountains, and bringing joy into the world.  We harnessed up the
+mules, and started silently out on the lonely road; turning, I checked my
+horse, and began moralizing on all kinds of things; upon tenacity of
+purpose, the futility of life, and the inexorable fate which mocks
+mankind, making all effort useless, whilst still urging us to strive.
+Then the grass rustled, and across an open space a small white object
+trotted, looking furtively around, threw up its head and howled, ran to
+and fro as if it sought for something, howled dismally again, and after
+scratching in the ground, squatted dejectedly on the fresh-turned-up
+earth which marked the Indians’ grave.
+
+
+
+
+SIDI BU ZIBBALA
+
+
+RELIGIOUS persecution with isolation from the world, complete as if the
+Lebanon were an atoll island in the Paumotus group; a thousand years of
+slavery, and centuries innumerable of traditions of a proud past, the
+whole well filtered through the curriculum of an American missionary
+college, had made Maron Mohanna the strange compound that he was.  Summer
+and winter dressed in a greasy black frock-coat, hat tilted on his head,
+as if it had been a fez; dilapidated white-topped mother-of-pearl
+bebuttoned boots, a shirt which seemed to come as dirty from the wash as
+it went there; his shoulders sloping and his back bent in a perpetual
+squirm, Mohanna shuffled through the world with the exterior of a pimp,
+but yet with certain aspirations towards a wild life which seldom are
+entirely absent from any member of the Arab race.  So in his village of
+the Lebanon he grew to man’s estate, and drifted after the fashion of his
+countrymen into a precarious business in the East.  Half proxenete, half
+dragoman, servile to all above him and civil for prudence’ sake to all
+below, he passed through the various degrees of hotel tout, seller of
+cigarettes, and guide to the antiquities of whatever town he happened to
+reside in, to the full glory of a shop in which he sold embroideries,
+attar of roses, embroidered slippers and all the varied trash which
+tourists buy in the bazaars of the Levant.  But all the time, and whilst
+he studied French and English with a view to self-advancement, the
+ancient glories of the Arab race were always in his mind.  Himself a
+Christian of the Christians, reared in that hotbed of theology the
+Lebanon, where all the creeds mutually show their hatred of each other,
+and display themselves in their most odious aspects; and whilst hating
+the Mohammedans as a first principle of his belief, he found himself
+mysteriously attracted to their creed.  Not that his reason was seduced
+by the teachings of the Koran, but that somehow the stately folly of the
+whole scheme of life evolved by the ex-camel-driver appealed to him, as
+it has oftentimes appealed to stronger minds than his.  The call to
+prayers, the half-contemplative, half-militant existence led by
+Mohammedans; the immense simplicity of their hegemony; the idea of a not
+impossible one God, beyond men’s ken, looking down frostily through the
+stars upon the plains, a Being to be evoked without much hope of being
+influenced, took hold of him and set him thinking whether all members of
+the Arab race ought not to hold one faith.  And in addition to his
+speculations upon faith and race, vaguely at times it crossed his mind,
+as I believe it often crosses the minds of almost every Arab (and Syrians
+not a few), “If all else fail, I can retire into the desert, join the
+tribes and pass a pleasant life, sure of a wife or two, a horse, a lance,
+a long flint gun, a bowl of camel’s milk, and a black tent in which to
+rest at night.”
+
+Little indeed are the chances of a young educated Syrian to make his
+living in the Lebanon.  A certain modicum of the young men is always
+absorbed into the ranks of the various true faiths which send out
+missionaries to convert Arab-speaking races, and those so absorbed
+generally pass their lives preaching shamefacedly that which they
+partially believe, to those whose faith is fixed.  Others again gravitate
+naturally to Cairo to seek for Government employment, or to write in the
+Arabic press, taking sides for England or for France, as the editors of
+the opposing papers make it worth their while.  But the great bulk of the
+intellectual Syrian proletariat emigrates to New York and there lives in
+a quarter by itself, engaging in all kinds of little industries, dealing
+in Oriental curiosities, or publishing newspapers in the Arab tongue.
+There they pass much of their time lounging at their shop-doors with
+slippers down at heel, in smoking cigarettes, in drinking arrack, and in
+speculating when their native country shall be free.
+
+To none of these well-recognized careers did Maron Mohanna feel himself
+impelled.  Soon tiring of his shop he went to Egypt, worked on a
+newspaper, and then became a teacher of Arabic to Europeans; was taken by
+one of them to London, where he passed some years earning a threadbare
+livelihood by translating Arabic documents and writing for the press.
+When out of work he tramped about the streets to cheat his hunger, and if
+in funds frequented music-halls, and lavished his hard-earned money on
+the houris who frequent such places, describing them as “fine and tall,
+too fond of drink, and perhaps colder in the blood than are the women of
+the East.”  Not often did his fortunes permit him such extravagances, and
+he began to pass his life hanging about the City in the wake of the
+impossible gang of small company-promoters, who in the purlieus of the
+financial world weave shoddy Utopias, and are the cause of much vain
+labour to postmen and some annoyance to the public, but who as far as I
+can see live chiefly upon hope deferred, for their prospectuses seem to
+be generally cast into the basket, from which no share list ever has
+returned.  But in the darkest of poor Maron Mohanna’s blackest days, his
+dreams about the Arab race never forsook him, and he studied much to
+master all the subtleties of his native tongue, talking with Arabs,
+Easterns, Persians, and the like in the lunch-room of the British Museum,
+where scholars of all nations, blear-eyed and bent, eat sawdust
+sandwiches and drink lemonade, whilst wearing out their eyes and lives
+for pittances which a dock labourer would turn from in disgust.  Much did
+the shivering Easterns confabulate, much did they talk of grammar, of
+niceties of diction, much did they dispute, often they talked of women,
+sometimes of horses, for on both all Easterns, no matter how they pass
+their lives, have much to say, and what they say is often worth
+attention, for in both matters their ancestors were learned when ours
+rode shaggy ponies, and their one miserable wife wrestled with fifteen
+fair-haired children in the damp forests where the Briton was evolved.
+How long Maron Mohanna dwelt in London is matter of uncertainty, to what
+abyss of poverty he fell, or if in the worst times he tramped the
+Embankment, sleeping on a bench and dreaming ever of the future of the
+Arab race, is not set down.  The next act of his life finds him the
+trusted manager of the West African Company at Cape Juby.  There he
+enjoyed a salary duly paid every quarter, and was treated with much
+deference by the employees as being the only man the company employed who
+could speak Arabic.  Report avers he had embraced either the Wesleyan or
+the Baptist faith, as the chief shareholders of the affair were
+Nonconformists, whose ancestors having (as they alleged) enjoyed much
+persecution for their faith, were well resolved that every one who came
+within their power should outwardly, at least, conform to their own
+tenets in dogma and church government.
+
+Established at Cape Juby, Maron Mohanna for the first time enjoyed
+consideration, and for a while the world went well with him.  He duly
+wrote reports, inspected goods, watched the arrival of the _Sahara_, the
+schooner which came once a month from Lanzarote, and generally
+endeavoured to discharge the duties of a manager, with some success.  The
+chiefs Mohammed-wold-el-Biruc and Bu-Dabous, with others from the
+far-distant districts of El Juf, El Hodh, and from Tishit, all flattered
+him, offering him women from their various tribes and telling him that he
+too was of their blood.  So by degrees either the affinity of race, the
+community of language or the provoking commonness of his European
+comrades, drew him to seek his most congenial friends amongst the natives
+of the place.  Then came the woman: the woman who always creeps into the
+life of man as the snake crept into the garden by the Euphrates; and
+Mohanna knowing that by so doing he forfeited all chance of his career,
+gave up his post, married an Arab girl, and became a desert Arab, living
+on dates and camel’s milk in the black Bedouin tents.  Children he had,
+to whom, though desert-born, he gave the names of Christians, feeling
+perhaps the nostalgia of civilization in the wilds, as he had felt before
+the nostalgia of the desert, in his blood.  And living in the desert with
+his hair grown long, dressed in the blue “baft” clothes, a spear in his
+hand and shod with sandals, he yet looked like a European clerk in
+masquerade.
+
+The bushy plains stretched like an ocean towards the mysterious regions
+of El Juf and Timbuctoo, Wadan, Tijigja, Atar and Shingiet, and the wild
+steppes where the Tuaregs veiled to the eyes roam as they roamed before
+they hastened to the call of Jusuf-ibn Tachfin to invade El Andalos and
+lose the battle at Las Navas de Tolosa: the battle where San Isidro in a
+shepherd’s guise guided the Christian host.  Men came and went, on
+camels, horses, donkeys and on foot; all armed, all beggars, from the
+rich chief to the poorest horseman of the tribe; and yet all dignified,
+draped in their fluttering rags, and looking more like men than those
+whom eighteen centuries of civilization and of trade have turned to apes.
+Men fought, careering on their horses on the sand, firing their guns and
+circling round like gulls, shouting their battle-cries; men prayed,
+turning to Mecca at the appointed hours; men sat for hours half in a
+dream thinking of much or nothing, who can say; whilst women in the tents
+milked camels, wove the curious geometric-patterned carpets which they
+use, and children grew up straight, active and as fleet of foot as roe.
+
+Inside the factory the European clerks smoked, drank, and played at
+cards: they learned no Arabic, for why should those who speak bad English
+struggle with other tongues?  Meanwhile the time slipped past, leaving as
+little trace as does a jackal when on a windy day he sneaks across the
+sand.  Only Maron Mohanna seemed to have no place in the desert world
+which he had dreamed of as a boy; and in the world of Europe typified by
+the factory on the beach his place was lost.  On marrying he had, of
+course, abjured the faith implanted in him in the Lebanon, and yet though
+now one of the “faithful” he found no resting-place.  Neither of the two
+contending faiths had sunk much into his soul, but still at times he saw
+that the best part of any faith is but the life it brings.  For him,
+though he had dreamed of it, the wild desert life held little charm;
+horses he loathed, suffering acutely when on their backs, and roaming
+after chance gazelles or ostriches with the horsemen of the tribe did not
+amuse him; but though too proud to change his faith again, at times he
+caught himself longing for his once-loathed shop in the Levant.  So that
+clandestinely he grew to haunt the factory and the fort, as before, in
+secret, he had hung round the straw-thatched mosque, and loitered in the
+tents.  His one amusement was to practise with a pistol at a mark, and by
+degrees he taught his wife to shoot, till she became a marksman able to
+throw an orange in the air and hit it with a pistol bullet three times
+out of five.  But even pistol-shooting palled on his soul at last, and he
+grew desperate, not being allowed to leave the tribe or go into the fort
+except in company with others, and keenly watched as those who change
+their faith and turn Mohammedans are ever watched amongst the Arab race.
+But in his darkest hour fate smiled upon him, and the head chief wanting
+an agent in the islands sent him to Lanzarote, and in the little town of
+Arrecife it seemed to him that he had found a resting-place at last.
+Once more he dressed himself in European clothes, he handled goods, saw
+now and then a Spanish newspaper a fortnight old; talked much of
+politics, lounged in the Alameda, and was the subject of much curiosity
+amongst the simple dwellers in the little town.  Some said he had denied
+his God amongst the heathen; others again that he suffered much for
+conscience’ sake; whilst he attended mass occasionally, going with a
+sense of doing something wrong, and feeling more enjoyment in the service
+than in the days of his belief.  His wife dressed in the Spanish fashion,
+wore a mantilla, sometimes indeed a hat, and looked not much unlike an
+island woman, and was believed by all to have thrown off the errors of
+her faith and come into the fold.
+
+But notwithstanding all the amenities of the island life, the unlimited
+opportunities for endless talk (so dear to Syrians), the half-malignant
+pleasure he experienced in dressing up his wife in Christian guise,
+sending for monstrous hats bedecked with paroquets from Cadiz, and gowns
+of the impossible shades of apple-green and yellow which in those days
+were sent from Paris to Spain and to her colonies, he yet was dull.  And
+curiously enough, now that he was a double renegade his youthful dreams
+haunted him once again.  He saw himself (in his mind’s eye) mounted upon
+his horse, flying across the sands, and stealthily and half ashamed he
+used to dress himself in the Arab clothes and sit for hours studying the
+Koran, not that he believed its teachings, but that the phraseology
+enchanted him, as it has always, both in the present and the past,
+bewitched all Arabs, and perhaps in his case it spoke to him of the
+illusory content which in the desert life he sought, but had not found.
+
+He read the “Tarik-es-Sudan,” and learned that Allah marks even the lives
+of locusts, and that a single pearl does not remain on earth by him
+unweighed.  The Djana of Essoyuti, El Ibtihaj, and the scarce “Choice of
+Marvels” written in far Mossul by the learned Abu Abdallah ibn Abderrahim
+(he of Granada in the Andalos), he read; and as he read his love renewed
+itself for the old race whose blood ran in his veins.  He read and
+dreamed, and twice a renegade in practice, yet remained a true believer
+in the aspirations of his youth.  He sailed in schooners, running from
+island port to island port down the trade winds; landed at little towns,
+and hardly marked the people in the rocky streets, Spanish in language,
+and in type quite Guanche, and but a step more civilized than the wild
+tribesmen from the coast that he had left.  Then thinking maybe of his
+sojourn in London, and its music-halls, frequented uninterestedly the
+house of Rita, Rita la Jerezana; sat in the courtyard under the fig-tree
+with its trunk coated with white-wash, and listened to the “Cante Hondo,”
+saw the girls dance Sevillanas; and drinking zarzaparilla syrup, learned
+that of all the countries in the world Spain is the richest, for there
+even the “women of the life” cast their accounts in ounces.
+
+Then growing weary of their chatter and their tales of woe, each one of
+them being, according to herself, fallen from some high estate, he
+wandered to the convent of the Franciscan friars.  They saw a convert in
+him, and put out all their theologic powers; displayed, as they know how,
+the human aspect of their faith, keeping the dogma out of sight; for well
+they knew, in vain the net is spread in the sight of any man, if the
+fires of hell are to be clearly seen.  Long hours Mohanna talked with
+them, enjoying argument for its own sake after the Scottish and the
+Eastern way; the friars were mystified at the small progress that they
+made, but said the renegade spoke “as he had a nest of nightingales all
+singing in his mouth.”  And all the time his wife, an Arab of the Arabs,
+sighed for the desert, in her Spanish clothes.  The “Velo de toalla” and
+the high-heeled shoes, the pomps and miseries of stays, and all the
+circumstance and starch of European dress, did not console her for the
+loss of the black tents, the familiar camels kneeling in the sand, the
+goats skipping about the “sudra” bushes; and the church bells made her
+but long more keenly for the call to prayers, rising at evening from the
+straw-thatched mosque.  Her children, left with the tribe, called to her
+from the desert, and she too found neither resting-place nor rest in the
+quiet island life.
+
+At last Maron Mohanna turned again to trade, and entered into partnership
+with one Benito Florez; bought a schooner, and came and went between the
+islands and the coast.  All things went well with him, and in the little
+island town “el renegado” rose to be quite a prosperous citizen, till on
+a day he and his partner quarrelled and went to law.  The law in every
+country favours a man born in the land against a foreigner; and the
+partnership broke up, leaving Mohanna almost penniless.  Whether one of
+those sudden furies which possess the Arabs, turning them in a moment and
+without warning from sedate well-mannered men to raving maniacs frothing
+at the mouth, came over him, he never told; but what is certain is that,
+having failed to slay his partner, he with his wife went off by night to
+where his schooner lay, and instantly induced his men to put to sea, and
+sailed towards the coast.  Mohanna drew a perhaps judicious veil of
+mystery over what happened on his arrival at the inlet where his wife’s
+tribe happened to be encamped.  One of the islanders either objecting to
+the looting of the schooner upon principle, or perhaps because his share
+of loot was insufficient, got himself killed; but what is a “Charuta”
+more or less, except perhaps to his wife and family in Arrecife or in
+some little dusty town in Pico or Gomera?  Those who assented or were too
+frightened to protest found themselves unmolested, and at liberty to take
+the schooner back.  Maron Mohanna and his wife, taking the boat rowed by
+some Arabs, made for the shore, and what ensued he subsequently related
+to a friend.
+
+“When we get near the shore my wife she throw her hat.”  One sees the
+hideous Cadiz hat floating upon the surf, draggled and miserable, and its
+bunch of artificial fruit, of flowers or feathers, bobbing about upon the
+backwash of the waves.  “She throw her boots, and then she take off all
+her clothes I got from Seville, cost me more than a hundred ‘real’; she
+throw her parasol, and it float in the water like a buoy, and make me
+mad.  I pay more than ten real for it.  After all things was gone she
+wrap herself in Arab sheet and step ashore just like an Arab girl, and
+all the clothes I brought from Cadiz, cost more than a hundred real, all
+was lost.”  What happened after their landing is matter of uncertainty.
+Whether Mohanna found his children growing up semi-savages, whether his
+wife having thus sacrificed to the Graces, and made a holocaust of all
+her Cadiz clothes, regretted them, and sitting by the beach fished for
+them sadly with a cane, no man can tell.
+
+Years passed away, and a certain English consul in Morocco travelling to
+the Court stopped at a little town.  Rivers had risen, tribes had cut the
+road, our Lord the Sultan with his camp was on a journey and had eaten up
+the food upon the usual road, or some one or another of the incidents of
+flood or field which render travel in Morocco interesting had happened.
+The town lay off the beaten track close to the territory of a half-wild
+tribe.  Therefore upon arrival at the place the consul found himself
+received with scowling looks; no one proceeded to hostilities, but he
+remained within his tent, unvisited but by a soldier sent from the
+Governor to ask whether the Kaffir, son of a Kaffir, wished for anything.
+People sat staring at him, motionless except their eyes; children holding
+each other’s hands stood at a safe distance from his tent, and stared for
+hours at him, and he remarked the place where he was asked to camp was
+near a mound which from time immemorial seemed to have been the common
+dunghill of the town.  The night passed miserably, the guards sent by the
+Governor shouting aloud at intervals to show their vigilance, banished
+all chance of sleep.
+
+Cursing the place, at break of day the consul struck his camp, mounted
+his horse, and started, leaving the sullen little town all wrapped in
+sleep.  But as he jogged along disconsolately behind his mules, passing
+an angle of the “Kasbah” wall, a figure, rising as it seemed out of the
+dunghill’s depths, advanced and stood before him in the middle of the
+way.  Its hair was long and matted and its beard ropy and grizzled, and
+for sole covering it had a sack tied round its waist with a string of
+camel’s hair; and as the consul feeling in his purse was just about, in
+the English fashion, to bestow his alms to rid himself of trouble, it
+addressed him in his native tongue.  “Good-morning, consul, how goes the
+world with you?  You’re the first Christian I have seen for years.  My
+name was once Mohanna, now I am Sidi bu Zibbala, the Father of the
+Dunghill.  Your poet Shakespeare say that all the world’s a stage, but he
+was Englishman.  I, Syrian, I say all the world dunghill.  I try him,
+Syria, England, the Desert, and New York; I find him dung, so I come here
+and live here on this dunghill, and find it sweet when compared to places
+I have seen; and it is warm and dry.”
+
+He ceased; and then the consul, feeling his words an outrage upon
+progress and on his official status, muttered “Queer kind of fish,” and
+jerking at his horse’s bridle, proceeded doggedly upon his way.
+
+
+
+
+LA PULPERIA
+
+
+IT may have been the Flor de Mayo, Rosa del Sur, or Tres de Junio, or
+again but have been known as the Pulperia upon the Huesos, or the Esquina
+on the Napostá.  But let its name have been what chance or the
+imagination of some Neapolitan or Basque had given it, I see it, and
+seeing it, dismounting, fastening my “redomon” to the palenque, enter,
+loosen my facon, feel if my pistol is in its place, and calling out
+“Carlon,” receive my measure of strong, heady red Spanish wine in a tin
+cup.  Passing it round to the company, who touch it with their lips to
+show their breeding, I seem to feel the ceaseless little wind which
+always blows upon the southern plains, stirring the dust upon the pile of
+fleeces in the court, and whistling through the wooden “reja” where the
+pulpero stands behind his counter with his pile of bottles close beside
+him, ready for what may chance.  For outward visible signs, a low, squat,
+mud-built house, surrounded by a shallow ditch on which grew stunted
+cactuses, and with paja brava sticking out of the abode of the
+overhanging eaves.  Brown, sun-baked, dusty-looking, it stands up, an
+island in the sea of waving hard-stemmed grasses which the improving
+settler passes all his life in a vain fight to improve away; and make his
+own particular estancia an Anglo-Saxon Eden of trim sheep-cropped turf,
+set here and there with “agricultural implements,” broken and thrown
+aside, and though imported at great trouble and expense, destined to be
+replaced by ponderous native ploughs hewn from the solid ñandubay, and
+which, of course, inevitably prove the superiority of the so-called
+unfit.  For inward graces, the “reja” before which runs a wooden counter
+at which the flower of the Gauchage of the district lounge, or sit with
+their toes sticking through their potro boots, swinging their legs and
+keeping time to the “cielito” of the “payador” upon his cracked guitar,
+the strings eked out with fine-cut thongs of mare’s hide, by jingling
+their spurs.
+
+Behind the wooden grating, sign in the Pampa of the eternal hatred
+betwixt those who buy and those who sell, some shelves of yellow pine, on
+which are piled ponchos from Leeds, ready-made calzoncillos, alpargatas,
+figs, sardines, raisins, bread—for bread upon the Pampa used to be eaten
+only at Pulperias—saddle-cloths, and in a corner the “botilleria,” where
+vermuth, absinthe, square-faced gin, Carlon, and Vino Seco stand in a
+row, with the barrel of Brazilian caña, on the top of which the pulpero
+ostentatiously parades his pistol and his knife.  Outside, the tracks led
+through the biscacheras, all converging after the fashion of the rails at
+a junction; at the palenque before the door stood horses tied by strong
+raw-hide cabrestos, hanging their heads in the fierce sun, shifting from
+leg to leg, whilst their companions, hobbled, plunged about, rearing
+themselves on their hind-legs to jump like kangaroos.
+
+Now and then Gauchos rode up occasionally, their iron spurs hanging off
+their naked feet, held by a raw-hide thong; some dressed in black
+bombachas and vicuña ponchos, their horses weighted down with silver, and
+prancing sideways as their riders sat immovable, but swaying from the
+waist upwards like willows in a wind.  Others, again, on lean young
+colts, riding upon a saddle covered with sheepskin, gripping the small
+hide stirrup with their toes and forcing them up to the posts with shouts
+of “Ah bagual!” “Ah Pehuelche!” “Ahijuna!” and with resounding blows of
+their short, flat-lashed whips, which they held by a thong between their
+fingers or slipped upon their wrists, then grasping their frightened
+horses by the ears, got off as gingerly as a cat jumps from a wall.  From
+the rush-thatched, mud-walled rancheria at the back the women, who always
+haunt the outskirts of a pulperia in the districts known as tierra
+adentro (the inside country), Indians and semi-whites, mulatresses, and
+now and then a stray Basque or Italian girl turned out, to share the
+quantity they considered love with all mankind.
+
+But gin and politics, with horses’ marks, accounts of fights, and
+recollections of the last revolution, kept men for the present occupied
+with serious things, so that the women were constrained to sit and smoke,
+drink maté, plait each other’s hair (searching it diligently the while),
+and wait until Carlon with Vino Seco, square-faced rum, cachaza, and the
+medicated log-wood broth, which on the Pampa passes for “Vino Francés,”
+had made men sensible to their softer charms.  That which in Europe we
+call love, and think by inventing it that we have cheated God, who
+clearly planted nothing but an instinct of self-continuation in mankind,
+as in the other animals, seems either to be in embryo, waiting for
+economic advancement to develop it; or is perhaps not even dormant in
+countries such as those in whose vast plains the pulperia stands for
+club, exchange, for meeting-place, and represents all that in other lands
+men think they find in Paris or in London, and choose to dignify under
+the style of intellectual life.  Be it far from me to think that we have
+bettered the Creator’s scheme; or by the substitution of our polyandry
+for polygamy, bettered the position of women, or in fact done anything
+but changed and made more complex that which at first was clear to
+understand.
+
+But, be that as it may and without dogmatism, our love, our vices, our
+rendering wicked things natural in themselves, our secrecy, our
+pruriency, adultery, and all the myriad ramifications of things sexual,
+without which no novelist could earn his bread, fall into nothing, except
+there is a press-directed public opinion, laws, bye-laws, leaded type and
+headlines, so to speak, to keep them up.  True, nothing of all this
+entered our heads as we sat drinking, listening to a contest of
+minstrelsy “por contrapunto” betwixt a Gaucho payador and a “matrero
+negro” of great fame, who each in turn taking the cracked “changango” in
+their lazo-hardened hands, plucked at its strings in such a style as to
+well illustrate the saying that to play on the guitar is not a thing of
+science, but requires but perseverance, hard finger-tips, and an unusual
+development of strength in the right wrist.  Negro and payador each sang
+alternately; firstly old Spanish love songs handed down from before the
+independence, quavering and high; in which Frasquita rhymed to chiquita,
+and one Cupido, whom I never saw in Pampa, loma, rincon, bolson, or
+medano, in the Chañares, amongst the woods of ñandubay, the pajonales,
+sierras, cuchillas, or in all the land, figured and did nothing very
+special; flourished, and then departed in a high falsetto shake, a rough
+sweep of the hard brown fingers over the jarring strings forming his
+fitting epitaph.
+
+The story of “El Fausto,” and how the Gaucho, Aniceto, went to Buenos
+Ayres, saw the opera of “Faust,” lost his puñal in the crush to take his
+seat, sat through the fearsome play, saw face to face the enemy of man,
+described {170a} as being dressed in long stockings to the stifle-joint,
+eyebrows like arches for tilting at the wing, and eyes like water-holes
+in a dry river bed, succeeded, and the negro took up the challenge and
+rejoined.  He told how, after leaving town, that Aniceto mounted on his
+Overo rosao, {170b} fell in with his “compadre,” told all his wondrous
+tale, and how they finished off their bottle and left it floating in the
+river like a buoy.
+
+The payador, not to be left behind, and after having tuned his guitar and
+put the “cejilla” on the strings, launched into the strange life of
+Martin Fierro, type of the Gauchos on the frontier, related his
+multifarious fights, his escapades, and love affairs, and how at last he,
+his friend, Don Cruz, saw on an evening the last houses as, with a stolen
+tropilla of good horses, they passed the frontier to seek the Indians’
+tents.  The death of Cruz, the combat of Martin with the Indian chief—he
+with his knife, the Indian with the bolas—and how Martin slew him and
+rescued the captive woman, who prayed to heaven to aid the Christian,
+with the body of her dead child, its hands secured in a string made out
+of one of its own entrails, lying before her as she watched the varying
+fortunes of the fight, he duly told.  La Vuelta de Martin and the strange
+maxims of Tio Viscacha, that Pampa cynic whose maxim was never to ride up
+to a house where dogs were thin, and who set forth that arms are
+necessary, but no man can tell when, were duly recorded by the
+combatants, listened to and received as new and authentic by the
+audience, till at last the singing and the frequent glasses of Carlon
+made payador and negro feel that the time had come to leave off
+contrapunto and decide which was most talented in music, with their
+facons.  A personal allusion to the colour of the negro’s skin, a retort
+calling in question the nice conduct of the sister of the payador, and
+then two savages foaming at the mouth, their ponchos wrapped round their
+arms, their bodies bent so as to protect their vitals, and their knives
+quivering like snakes, stood in the middle of the room.  The company
+withdrew themselves into the smallest space, stood on the tops of casks,
+and at the door the faces of the women looked in delight, whilst the
+pulpero, with a pistol and a bottle in his hands, closed down his grating
+and was ready for whatever might befall.  “Negro,” “Ahijuna,” “Miente,”
+“carajo,” and the knives flash and send out sparks as the returns de tic
+au tac jar the fighters’ arms up to the shoulder-joints.  In a moment all
+is over, and from the payador’s right arm the blood drops in a stream on
+the mud floor, and all the company step out and say the negro is a
+“valiente,” “muy guapeton,” and the two adversaries swear friendship over
+a tin mug of gin.  But all the time during the fight, and whilst outside
+the younger men had ridden races barebacked, making false starts to tire
+each other’s horses out, practising all the tricks they knew, as kicking
+their adversary’s horse in the chest, riding beside their opponent and
+trying to lift him from his seat by placing their foot underneath his and
+pushing upwards, an aged Gaucho had gradually become the centre figure of
+the scene.
+
+Seated alone he muttered to himself, occasionally broke into a falsetto
+song, and now and then half drawing out his knife, glared like a
+tiger-cat, and shouted “Viva Rosas,” though he knew that chieftain had
+been dead for twenty years.
+
+Tall and with straggling iron-grey locks hanging down his back, a
+broad-brimmed plush hat kept in its place by a black ribbon with two
+tassels under his chin, a red silk Chinese handkerchief tied loosely
+round his neck and hanging with a point over each shoulder-blade, he
+stood dressed in his chiripa and poncho, like a mad prophet amongst the
+motley crew.  Upon his feet were potro boots, that is the skin taken off
+the hind-leg of a horse, the hock-joint forming the heel and the hide
+softened by pounding with a mallet, the whole tied with a garter of a
+strange pattern woven by the Indians, leaving the toes protruding to
+catch the stirrups, which as a domador he used, made of a knot of hide.
+Bound round his waist he had a set of ostrich balls covered in lizard
+skin, and his broad belt made of carpincho leather was kept in place by
+five Brazilian dollars, and through it stuck a long facon with silver
+handle shaped like a half-moon, and silver sheath fitted with a catch to
+grasp his sash.  Whilst others talked of women or of horses, alluding to
+their physical perfections, tricks or predilections, their hair, hocks,
+eyes, brands or peculiarities, discussing them alternately with the
+appreciation of men whose tastes are simple but yet know all the chief
+points of interest in both subjects, he sat and drank.  Tio Cabrera (said
+the others) is in the past, he thinks of times gone by; of the Italian
+girl whom he forced and left with her throat cut and her tongue
+protruding, at the pass of the Puán; of how he stole the Indian’s horses,
+and of the days when Rosas ruled the land.  Pucha, compadre, those were
+times, eh?  Before the “nations,” English, Italian and Neapolitan, with
+French and all the rest, came here to learn the taste of meat, and ride,
+the “maturangos,” in their own countries having never seen a horse.  But
+though they talked at, yet they refrained from speaking to him, for he
+was old, and even the devil knows more because of years than because he
+is the devil, and they knew also that to kill a man was to Tio Cabrera as
+pleasant an exercise as for them to kill a sheep.  But at last I, with
+the accumulated wisdom of my twenty years, holding a glass of caña in my
+hand, approached him, and inviting him to drink, said, not exactly
+knowing why, “Viva Urquiza,” and then the storm broke out.  His eyes
+flashed fire, and drawing his facon he shouted “Muera! . . .  Viva
+Rosas,” and drove his knife into the mud walls, struck on the counter
+with the flat of the blade, foamed at the mouth, broke into snatches of
+obscene and long-forgotten songs, as “Viva Rosas!  Muera Urquiza dale
+guasca en la petiza,” whilst the rest, not heeding that I had a pistol in
+my belt, tried to restrain him by all means in their power.  But he was
+maddened, yelled, “Yes, I, Tio Cabrera, known also as el Cordero, tell
+you I know how to play the violin (a euphemism on the south pampa for
+cutting throats).  In Rosas’ time, Viva el General, I was his right-hand
+man, and have dispatched many a Unitario dog either to Trapalanda or to
+hell.  Caña, blood, Viva Rosas, Muera!” then tottering and shaking, his
+knife slipped from his hands and he fell on a pile of sheepskins with
+white foam exuding from his lips.  Even the Gauchos, who took a life as
+other men take a cigar, and from their earliest childhood are brought up
+to kill, were dominated by his brute fury, and shrank to their horses in
+dismay.  The pulpero murmured “salvage” from behind his bars, the women
+trembled and ran to their “tolderia,” holding each other by the hands,
+and the guitar-players sat dumb, fearing their instruments might come to
+harm.  I, on the contrary, either impelled by the strange savagery
+inherent in men’s blood or by some reason I cannot explain, caught the
+infection, and getting on my horse, a half-wild “redomon,” spurred him
+and set him plunging, and at each bound struck him with the flat edge of
+my facon, then shouting “Viva Rosas,” galloped out furiously upon the
+plain.
+
+
+
+
+HIGGINSON’S DREAM
+
+
+THE world went very well with Higginson; and about that time—say fifteen
+years ago—he found himself, his fortune made, settled down in Noumea.
+The group of islands which he had, as he said, rescued from barbarism,
+and in which he had opened the mines, made all the harbours, and laid out
+all the roads, looked to him as their Providence; and to crown the work,
+he had had them placed under the French flag.  Rich, _décoré,_ respected,
+and with no worlds to conquer in particular, he still kept adding wealth
+to wealth; trading and doing what he considered useful work for all
+mankind in general, as if he had been poor.
+
+Strange that a kindly man, a cosmopolitan, half French, half English,
+brought up in Australia, capable, active, pushing, and even not devoid of
+that interior grace a speculative intellect, which usually militates
+against a man in the battle of his life, should think that roads, mines,
+harbours, havens, ships, bills of lading, telegraphs, tramways, a
+European flag, even the French flag itself, could compensate his
+islanders for loss of liberty.  Stranger in his case than in the case of
+those who go grown up with all the prejudices, limitations,
+circumscriptions and formalities of civilization become chronic in them,
+and see in savage countries and wild peoples but dumping ground for
+European trash, and capabilities for the extension of the Roubaix or the
+Sheffield trade; for he had passed his youth amongst the islands, loved
+their women, gone spearing fish with their young men, had planted taro
+with them, drunk kava, learned their language, and become as expert as
+themselves in all their futile arts and exercises; knew their customs and
+was as one of them, living their life and thinking it the best.
+
+’Tis said (Viera, I think, relates it) that in the last years of fighting
+for the possession of Teneriffe, and when Alonso de Lugo was hard pressed
+to hold his own against the last Mencey, Bencomo, a strange sickness
+known as the “modorra” seized the Guanches and killed more of them than
+were slain in all the fights.  The whole land was covered with the dead,
+and once Alonso de Lugo met a woman sitting on the hill-side, who called
+out, “Where are you going, Christian?  Why do you hesitate to take the
+land? the Guanches are all dead.”  The Spanish chroniclers say that the
+sickness came about by reason of a wet season, and that, coming as it did
+upon men weakened by privation, they fell into apathy and welcomed death
+as a deliverer.  That may be so, and it is true that in hill-caves even
+to-day in the lone valleys by Icod el Alto their bodies still are found
+seated and with the head bowed on the arms, as if having sat down to
+mourn the afflictions of their race, God had been merciful for once and
+let them sleep.  The chroniclers may have been right, and the wet season,
+with despair, starvation and the hardships they endured, may have brought
+on the mysterious “modorra,” the drowsy sickness, under which they fell.
+But it needs nothing but the presence of the conquering white man, decked
+in his shoddy clothes, armed with his gas-pipe gun, his Bible in his
+hand, schemes of benevolence deep rooted in his heart, his merchandise
+(that is, his whisky, gin and cotton cloths) securely stored in his
+corrugated iron-roofed sheds, and he himself active and persevering as a
+beaver or red ant, to bring about a sickness which, like the “modorra,”
+exterminates the people whom he came to benefit, to bless, to rescue from
+their savagery, and to make them wise, just, beautiful, and as apt to
+differentiate evil from good as even he himself.  So it would seem, act
+as we like, our presence is a curse to all those people who have
+preserved the primeval instincts of our race.  Curious, and yet
+apparently inevitable, that our customs seem designed to carry death to
+all the so-called inferior races, whom at a bound we force to bridge a
+period which it has taken us a thousand years to pass.
+
+In his prosperity, and even we may suppose during the Elysium of dining
+with sous-préfets in Noumea, and on the occasions when in Melbourne or in
+Sydney he once again consorted with Europeans, he always dreamed of a
+certain bay upon the coast far from Noumea, where in his youth he had
+spent six happy months with a small tribe, fishing and swimming, hunting,
+spearing fish, living on taro and bananas, and having for a friend one
+Tean, son of a chief, a youth of his own age.  The vision of the happy
+life came back to him; the dazzling beach, the heavy foliage of the palao
+and bread-fruit trees; the grove of cocoa-nuts, and the zigzag and
+intricate paths leading from hut to hut, which when a boy he traversed
+daily, knowing them all by instinct in the same way that horses in wild
+countries know how to return towards the place where they were born.  And
+still the vision haunted him; not making him unhappy, for he was one of
+those who find relief from thought in work, but always there in the same
+way that the remembrance of a mean action is ever present, even when one
+has made atonement, or induced oneself to think it was not really mean,
+but rendered necessary by circumstances; or, in fact, when we imagine we
+have put to sleep that inward grasshopper which in our bosoms, blood,
+brain, stomach, or wheresoever it is situated, is louder or more faint
+according to our state of health, digestion, weakness, or what it is that
+makes us hear its chirp.
+
+And so it was that cheap champagne seemed flat to him; the company of the
+yellow-haired and faded _demi-mondaines_ whom Paris dumps upon New
+Caledonia insipid; the villas on the cliff outside Noumea vulgar; and the
+prosperity and progress of the place to which he had so much contributed,
+profitless and stale.  Not that for a single instant he stopped working,
+planning and improving his estates, or missed a chance to acquire “town
+lots,” or if a profitable 10,000 acres of good land with river frontage
+came into the market, hesitated for a moment to step in and buy.  Now,
+though by this time he had long got past the need of actually trading
+with the natives at first hand, and kept, as rich men do, captains and
+secretaries and lawyers to do his lying for him, and only now and then
+would condescend to exercise himself in that respect when the stake was
+large enough to make the matter reputable, yet sometimes he would take a
+cruise in one of his own schooners and play at being poor.  Nothing so
+tickles a man’s vanity as to look back upon his semi-incredible past, and
+talk of the times when he had to live on sixpence a day, and to recount
+his breakfast on a penny roll and glass of milk, and then to put his
+hands upon his turtle-bloated stomach, smile a fat smile and say, “Ah,
+those were the days, then I was happy!” although he knows that at that
+halcyon period he was miserable, not perhaps so much from poverty, as
+from that envy which is as great a curse to poor men as is indigestion to
+the rich.
+
+So running down the coast of New Caledonia in a schooner, trading in
+pearls and copra, he came one evening to a well-remembered bay.  All
+seemed familiar to him, the low white beach, tall palm-trees, coral reef
+with breakers thundering over it, and the still blue lagoon inside the
+clump of breadfruit trees, the single tall grey stone just by the beach
+all graven over with strange characters, all struck a chord long dormant
+in his mind.  So telling his skipper to let go his anchor, he rowed
+himself ashore.  On landing he was certain of the place; the tribe, about
+five hundred strong, ruled over by the father of his friend Tean, lived
+right along the bay, and scattered in palm-thatched huts throughout the
+district.  Then he remembered a certain cocoa-nut palm he used to climb,
+a spring of water in a thicket of hibiscus, a little stream which he used
+to dam, and then divert the course to take the fish, and sitting down,
+all his past life came back to him.  As he himself would say, “C’etait le
+bon temps; pauvre Tean il doit être Areki (chef) maintenant; sa soeur
+peut-être est morte ou mariée . . . elle m’aimait bien . . . ”
+
+But this day-dream dispelled, it struck him that the place looked
+changed.  Where were the long low huts in front of which he used to pass
+his idle hours stretched in a hammock, the little taro patches?  The
+zigzag paths which used to run from house to house across the fields to
+the spring and to the turtle-pond were all grown up.  Couch-grass and
+rank mimosa scrub, with here and there ropes of lianas, blocked them so
+that he rubbed his eyes and asked himself, Where is the tribe?  Vainly he
+shouted, cooeed loudly; all was silent, and his own voice came back to
+him muffled and startling as it does when a man feels he is alone.  At
+last, following one of the paths less grown up and obliterated than the
+rest, he entered a thick scrub, walked for a mile or two cutting lianas
+now and then with his jack-knife, stumbling through swamps, wading
+through mud, until in a little clearing he came upon a hut, in front of
+which a man was digging yams.  As many of the natives in New Caledonia
+speak English and few French, he called to him in English, “Where black
+man?”  Resting upon his hoe, the man replied, “All dead.”  “Where Chief?”
+And the same answer, “Chief, he dead.”  “Tean, he dead?”  “No, Tean
+Chief; he ill, die soon; Tean inside that house.”  And Higginson, not
+understanding, but feeling vaguely that his dream was shattered in some
+way he could not understand, called out, “Tean, oh, Tean, your friend
+Johnny here!”  Then from the hut emerged a feeble man leaning upon a long
+curved stick, who gazed at him as he had seen a ghost.  At last he said,
+“That you, John?  I glad to see you once before I die.”  Whether they
+embraced, shook hands, rubbed noses, or what their greeting was is not
+recorded, for Higginson, in alluding to it, always used to say, “C’est
+bête, mais le pauvre homme me faisait de la peine.”
+
+This was his sickness.  “Me sick, John; why you wait so long? you no
+remember, so many years ago when we spear fish, you love my sister, she
+dead five years ago . . .  When me go kaikai (eat) piece sugar-cane,
+little bit perhaps fall on the ground, big bird he come eat bit of
+sugar-cane and eat my life.”
+
+Poor Higginson being a civilized man, with the full knowledge of all
+things good and evil contingent on his state, still was dismayed, but
+said, “No, Tean, I get plenty big gun; you savey when I shoot even a
+butterfly he fall.  I shoot big bird so that when you go kaikai he no eat
+pieces, and you get well again.”  Thus Higginson from his altitude argued
+with the semi-savage, thinking, as men will think, that even death can be
+kept off with words.  But Tean smiled and said, “Johnny, you savey heap,
+but you no savey all.  This time I die.  You go shoot bird he turn into a
+mouse, and mouse eat all I eat, just the same bird.”  This rather
+staggered Higginson, and he felt his theories begin to vanish, and he
+began to feel a little angry; but really loving his old friend, he once
+more addressed himself to what he now saw might be a hopeless task.
+
+“I go Noumea get big black cat, beautiful cat, all the same tiger—you
+savey tiger, Tean?—glossy and fat, long tail and yellow eyes; when he see
+mouse he eat him; you go bed sleep, get up, and soon quite well.”  Tean,
+who by this time had changed position with his friend, and become out of
+his knowledge a philosopher, shook his head sadly and replied, “You no
+savey nothing, John; when black man know he die there is no hope.
+Suppose cat he catch mouse, all no use; mouse go change into a big, black
+cloud, all the same rain.  Rain fall upon me, and each drop burn right
+into my bones.  I die, John, glad I see you; black man all die, black
+woman no catch baby, tribe only fifty ’stead of five hundred.  We all go
+out, all the same smoke, we vanish, go up somewhere, into the clouds.
+Black men and white men, he no can live.  New Caledonia (as you call him)
+not big enough for both.”
+
+What happened after that Higginson never told, for when he reached that
+point he used to break out into a torrent of half French, half English
+oaths, blaspheme his gods, curse progress, rail at civilization, and
+recall the time when all the tribe were happy, and he and Tean in their
+youth went spearing fish.  And then bewildered, and as if half-conscious
+that he himself had been to blame, would say, “I made the roads, opened
+the mines, built the first pier, I opened up the island; ah, le pauvre
+Tean, il me faisait de la peine . . . et sa soeur morte . . . she was so
+pretty with a hibiscus wreath . . . ah, well, pauvre petite . . . je
+l’aimais bien.”
+
+
+
+
+CALVARY
+
+
+JUST where the River Plate, split by a hundred islands, forms a sort of
+delta, a tract of marshy land in Entre Rios, known as the Rincones of the
+Ibicuy, spreads out flat, cut by a thousand channels, heavily timbered,
+shut in upon the landward side by a long range of hills of dazzling sand,
+and buried everywhere in waving masses of tall grass.
+
+Grass, grass, and yet more grass.  Grass at all seasons of the year, so
+that the half-wild horses never know the scarcity of pasture which in the
+winter makes them lean and rough upon the outside plains.  A district
+shut by its sand-hills and the great river from the outer world.  A
+paradise for horses, cattle, tigers, myriads of birds, for capibaras,
+nutrias, and for the stray Italians who now and then come from the cities
+with a rotten boat, and miserable, cheap, Belgian gun, to slaughter
+ducks.
+
+The population, sparse and indolent, a hybrid breed between the Gauchos
+and the Chanar Indians, who at the conquest retreated into the thickest
+swamps and islands of the River Plate.  But still a country where life
+flows easily away amongst the cane-brakes, thickets of espinillo, tala
+and ñandubay, and where from out the pajonales the half-wild horses bound
+like antelopes, shaking their manes, their tails aloft like flags,
+snorting and frisking in the pride of strength, and lighting up the
+landscape with their variegated colours like a herd of fallow deer.  A
+land of vegetation so intense as to bedwarf mankind almost as absolutely
+as we bedwarf ourselves with our machinery in a manufacturing town.  Air
+plants upon the trees; oven-birds’ earthen, gourd-like nests hanging from
+boughs; great wasp nests in the hollows of the trunks; scarlet and
+rose-pink flamingoes fishing in the shallow pools; nutrias floating down
+the streams, their round and human-looking heads appearing just awash;
+and the dark silent channels of the stagnant backwaters, so thickly grown
+with water weeds that by throwing a few branches on the top a man may
+cross his horse.
+
+Commerce, that vivifying force, that bond of union between all the basest
+instincts of the basest of mankind, that touch of lower human nature
+which makes all the lowest natures of mankind akin, was quite unknown.
+Cheating was elementary, and rarely did much harm but to the successful
+cheat; at times a neighbour passed a leaden dollar on a friend, was soon
+detected, and was branded as a thief; at times a man slaughtered a
+neighbour’s cow, and sold the hide, stole a good horse, or perpetrated
+some piece of petty villainy, sufficient by its transparent folly to
+reassure the world that he was quite uncivilized, and not fit by his
+exertions ever to grow rich.
+
+Adultery and fornication were frequent, and, again, chiefly concerned the
+principals, as there were no self-instituted censors, eager to carry
+tales, and to revenge themselves upon the world for their own impotency.
+
+All were apt lazoers, great with the bolas, and all rode as they had
+issued from their mothers’ wombs mounted upon a foal, and grown together
+with him, half horse, half man—quiet and almost blameless centaurs, and
+as happy as it is possible for men to be who come into the world ready
+baptized in tears.
+
+So much for man in the Rincones of the Ibicuy, and let us leave him quiet
+and indolent, fighting occasionally at the “Pulperia” for a quart of
+wine, for jealousy, for politics, or any of the so-called reasons which
+make men shed each other’s blood.
+
+But commerce, holy commerce, thrice blessed nexus which makes the whole
+world kin, reducing all men to the lowest common multiple; commerce that
+curses equally both him who buys and him who sells, and not content with
+catching all men in its ledgers, envies the animals their happy lives,
+was on the watch.  Throughout the boundaries of the River Plate, from
+Corrientes to the bounds of Tucuman, San Luis de la Punta to San
+Nicholas, and to the farthest limits of the stony southern plains,
+nowhere were horses cheaper than in the close Rincones of the Ibicuy.
+Three, four, or five, or at the most six dollars, bought the best,
+especially if but half-tamed, and a convenient curve of the river allowed
+a steamboat to discharge or to load goods, tied to a tree and moored
+beside the bank.
+
+Upon a day a steamer duly arrived, whistled, and anchored, and from her,
+in a canoe, appeared a group of men who landed, and with the assistance
+of a guide went to the chief estancia of the place.  The owner, Cruz
+Cabrera, called also Cruz el Narigudo, came to his door, welcomed them,
+driving off his dogs, wondered, but still said nothing, as it is not
+polite to ask a stranger what is the business that brings him to your
+house.  Maté went round, and gin served in a square-faced bottle, and
+drank out of a solitary wine-glass, the stem long snapped in the middle,
+and spliced by shrinking a piece of green cow-hide round a thin cane, and
+fastening the cane into a disc of roughly-shaped soft wood.  “Three
+dollars by the cut, and I’ll take fifty.”  “No, four and a half; my
+horses are the best of the whole district.”  And so the ignoble farce of
+bargaining, which from the beginning of the world has been the touchstone
+of the zero of the human heart, pursued its course.
+
+At last the “higgling of the market”—God-descended phrase—dear to
+economists and those who in their studies apart from life weave webs in
+which mankind is caught, decreed that at four dollars the deal was to be
+made.  But at the moment of arrangement one of the strangers saw a fine
+chestnut colt standing saddled at the door, and claimed him as a
+“sweetener,” and to save talk his master let him go, and then, the money
+counted over, the buyer, prepared to give a hand to catch the horses, and
+to lead them singly to the boat.  Plunging and snorting, sweating with
+terror, and half dead with fear, kicked, cuffed, and pricked with knives,
+horse after horse was forced aboard, and stood tied to a ring or
+stanchion, the sweat falling in drops like rain from legs and bellies on
+the deck.  Only the chestnut stood looking uneasily about, and frightened
+by the struggles and the sound of blows falling upon the backs of those
+his once companions in the wild gallops through the forest glades, who
+had been forced aboard.
+
+Then Cruz Cabrera cursed his folly with an oath, and getting for the last
+time on his back made him turn, passage, plunge, and started and checked
+him suddenly, then getting off unsaddled him, and gave his halter to a
+man to lead him to the ship.  The horse resisted, terrified at the
+strange unusual sight, and one of the strangers, raising his iron whip,
+struck him across the nose, exclaiming with an oath, “I’ll show you what
+it is to make a fuss, you damned four dollars’ worth, when once I get you
+safe aboard the ship.”  And Cruz Cabrera, gripping his long knife, was
+grieved, and said much as to the chastity of the stranger’s mother, and
+of his wife, but underneath his breath, not that he feared to cut a
+“gringo’s” throat, but that the dollars kept him quiet, as they have
+rendered dumb, priests, ministers of state, bishops and merchants,
+princes and peasants, and have closed the mouths of three parts of
+mankind, making them silent complices in all the villainies they see and
+hate, and still dare not denounce, fearing the scourge of poverty, and
+the smart lash which Don Dinero flourishes over the shoulders of all
+those who venture even remotely to express their thoughts.
+
+Quickly the Ibicuy melted into the mist, as the wheezy steamer grunted
+and squattered like a wounded wild duck, down the yellow flood.  Inside,
+the horses, more dead than alive, panted with thirst, and yet were still
+too timid to approach the water troughs.  They slipped and struggled on
+the deck, fell and plunged up again, and at each fall or plunge, the
+blows fell on their backs, partly from folly, partly from the
+satisfaction that some men feel in hurting anything which fate or
+Providence has placed without the power of resistance in their hands.
+Instinct and reason; the hypothetic difference which good weak men use as
+an anæsthetic when their conscience pricks them for their sins of
+omission and commission to their four-footed brethren.  But a distinction
+wholly without a difference, and a link in the long chain of fraud and
+force with which we bind all living things, men, animals, and most of all
+our reasoning selves, in one crass neutral-tinted slavery.  Who that has
+never put his bistouri upon the soul, and hitherto no vivisectionist (of
+men or animals) can claim the feat, shall say who suffers most—the biped
+or the four-footed animal?  I know the cant of education, the higher
+organism, and the dogmatics of the so-called scientists which bid so fair
+to worthily replace those of the theologians, but who shall say if
+animals, when suddenly removed from all that sanctifies their lives, do
+not pass agonies far more intense than such endured by those whose
+education or whose reason—what you will—still leaves them hope?
+
+By the next morning the wheezy, wood-fired steamer was in the roads of
+Buenos Ayres, the exiles of the Ibicuy with coats all starring, flanks
+tucked up, hanging their heads, no more the lightsome creatures of but
+yesterday.
+
+Steam launches, pitching like porpoises in the shallow stream,
+whale-boats manned by Italians girt with red sashes, and with yellow
+shirts made beautiful with scarlet horse-shoes, and whose eyes glistened
+like diamonds in their roguish, nut-coloured faces, came alongside the
+ship.  Lighters, after much expenditure of curses and vain reaches with
+boat-hooks at the paddle-floats, hooked on, and dropped astern.  The
+donkey-engine started with a whirr, giving the unwilling passengers
+another tremor of alarm, and then the work of lowering them into the
+flat-bottomed lighters straight began.  Kickings and strugglings, and one
+by one, their coats all matted with the sweat of terror, they were
+dropped into the boat.  One or two slipped from the slings, and landed
+with a broken leg, and then a dig with a “facon” ended their troubles,
+and their bodies floated on the shallow waves, followed by flocks of
+gulls.  Puffing and pitching, the tug dragging the lighter reached the
+ocean-steamer’s side.  Again the donkey-engine rattled and whirred, and
+once again the luckless animals were hoisted up, stowed on the lower deck
+in rows in semi-darkness, and after a due interval the vessel put to sea.
+
+“Who would not sell a farm and go to sea?” the sailor says, and turns his
+quid remarking, “Go to sea for pleasure, yes, and to hell for fun.”  The
+smell of steam, confinement, the motion of the ship, monotony of days,
+time marked but by the dinner-bell, a hell to passengers who in their
+cabins curse the hours, and kill the time with cards, books, drink and
+flirtation, and yet find every day a week.  But to the exiles of the
+Ibicuy, stricken with terror, too ill to eat, parching, and yet afraid to
+drink, hopeless and fevered, sick at heart, slipping and falling, bruised
+with each motion of the ship, beaten when restless, and perhaps in some
+dim way conscious of having left their birthplace, and foreseeing nothing
+but misery, who shall say what they endured during the passage, in the
+hot days, the stifling nights, and in the final change to the dark skies
+and chilling breezes of the north?  Happiest those who died without the
+knowledge of the London streets, and whose bruised carcasses were flung
+into the sea, their coats matted with sweat and filth, legs swelled, and
+heads hanging down limply as they trailed the bodies on the decks.
+
+The docks, the dealer’s yard, the breaking in to harness, and the sale at
+Aldridge’s, and one by one they were led out to meet no more; as
+theologians who have blessed man with hell, allow no paradise to beasts.
+Perhaps because their lives being innocent, they would have filled it up
+so that no man could enter, for what saint in any calendar could for an
+instant claim to be admitted if his life were compared to that of the
+most humble of his four-footed brethren in the Lord?  Docked duly, to
+show that nature does not know how to make a horse, bitted and broken,
+the chestnut colt, once Cruz Cabrera’s pride, started on cab work, and
+for a time gave satisfaction to his owner, for, though not fast, he was
+untiring, and, as his driver said, “yer couldn’t kill ’im, ’e was a
+perfect glutton for ’ard work.”
+
+Streets, streets, and yet more streets, endless and sewer-like, stony and
+wood-paved, suburbs interminable, and joyless squares, gaunt stuccoed
+crescents, “vales,” “groves,” “places,” a perfect wilderness of bricks,
+he trotted through them all.  Derbies and boat-races, football matches,
+Hurlingham and the Welsh Harp, Plaistow and Finchley, Harrow-on-the-Hill,
+the wait at theatres, the nightly crawl up Piccadilly watching for fares,
+where men and women stop to talk; rain, snow, ice, frost, and the fury of
+the spring east wind, he knew them all, struggled and shivered, baked,
+shook with fatigue, and still resisted.  But time, that comes upon us and
+our horses, stealthily creeping like Indians creep upon the war trail
+without a sign, loosening the sinews of our knees, thickening their wind,
+and making both of us useless except for worms, began to tell.  The
+chronic cough, the groggy feet, the eye covered with a cloud, caused by a
+flick inside the blinkers, and the staring coat, soon turned the
+chestnut, from a cab with indiarubber tyres, celluloid fittings, and a
+looking-glass upon each side (for fools to see how impossible it is that
+they can ever have been made after God’s image), to a night hack, and
+then the fall to a fish-hawker’s cart was not too long delayed.
+
+Blows and short commons, sores from the collar, and continued overwork,
+slipping upon the greasy streets, struggling with loads impossible to
+move, finished the tragedy; and of the joyous colt who but a year or two
+ago bounded through thickets scarcely brushing off the dew, nothing was
+left but a gaunt, miserable, lame, wretched beast, a very bag of bones,
+too thin for dog’s meat, and too valueless even to afford the mercy of
+the knacker’s fee.  So, struggling on upon his Via Crucis, Providence at
+last remembered, and let him fall, and the shaft entering his side, his
+blood coloured the pavement; his owner, after beating him till he was
+tired, gave him a farewell kick or two; then he lay still, his eyes open
+and staring, and white foam exuding from his mouth.
+
+The scent of horse dung filled the fetid air, cabs rattled, and vans
+jolted on the stones, and the dead horse, bloody and mud-stained, formed,
+as it were, a sort of island, parting the traffic into separate streams,
+as it surged onward roaring in the current of the streets.
+
+
+
+
+A PAKEHA
+
+
+RAIN, rain, and more rain, dripping off the sodden trees, soaking the
+fields, and blotting out the landscape as with a neutral-tinted gauze.
+The sort of day that we in the land “dove il doce Dorico risuona”
+designate as “saft.”  Enter along the road to me a neighbour of some
+fifty to sixty years of age, one Mr. Campbell, a little bent, hair faded
+rather than grey, frosty-faced as we Scotsmen are apt to turn after some
+half a century of weather, but still a glint of red showing in the
+cheeks; moustache and whiskers trimmed in the fashion of the later
+sixties; “tacketed” boots, and clothes, if not impervious to the rain, as
+little affected by it as is the bark of trees.  His hat, once black and
+of the pattern affected at one time by all Free Church clergymen, now
+greenish and coal-scuttled fore and aft and at the sides.  In his red,
+chapped, dirty, but grey-mittened hands a shepherd’s stick—long, crooked,
+and made of hazel-wood.
+
+“It’ll maybe tak’ up, laird.”
+
+“Perhaps.”
+
+“An awfu’ spell o’ it.”
+
+“Yes, disgusting.”
+
+“Aye, laird, the climate’s sort o’ seekenin’.  I mind when I was in New
+Zealand in the sixties, aye, wi’ a surveyor, just at the triangulation,
+ye ken.  Man, a grand life, same as the tinklers, here to-day and gane
+to-morrow, like old Heather Jock.  Hoot, never mind your dog, laird,
+there’s just McClimant’s sheep, puir silly body, I ken his keel-mark.
+Losh me, a bonny country, just a pairfect pairadise, New Zealand.  When I
+first mind Dunedin it wasna bigger than the clachan there, out by.  A
+braw place noo, I understan’, and a’ the folk fearfu’ took up wi’ horse,
+driving their four-in-hands, blood cattle, every one of them.  There’s
+men to-day like Jacky Price—he was a Welshmen, I’m thinking—who I mind
+doing their day’s darg just like mysel’ aboot Dunedin, and noo they send
+their sons hame to be educated up aboot England.
+
+“When?  ’Oo aye, I went oot in the old _London_ wi’ Captin Macpherson.
+He’d bin the round trip a matter o’ fifteen times, forbye a wee bit jaunt
+whiles after the ‘blackbirds’ (slaves, ye ken, what we called free
+endentured labourers) to the New Hebrides.  The _London_, aye, ’oo aye,
+she foundered in the Bay (Biscay, ye ken) on her return.  It’s just a
+special providence I wasna a passenger myself.
+
+“Why did I leave the country?  Eh, laird, ye may say.  I would hae made
+my hame out there, but it was just the old folks threap, threaping on me
+to come back, I’m telling ye.  A bonny toon, Dunedin, biggit on a wee
+hill just for a’ the wurrld like Gartfarran there, and round the point a
+wee bit plain just like the Carse o’ Stirling.  Four year I wrocht at the
+surveyin’, maistly triangulation, syne twa at shepherdin’, nane o’ your
+Australlian fashion tailing them a’ day, but on the hame system gaen’
+aboot; man, I mind whiles I didna see anither man in sax weeks’ time.”
+
+“Then you burned bricks, you say?”
+
+“Aye, I didna’ think ye had been so gleg at the Old Book.  Aye, aye,
+laird, plenty of stra’, or maybe it was yon New Zealand flax stalk.  The
+awfiest plant ye ever clapt your eyes on, is yon flax.  I mind when I
+first landed aff the old _London_—she foundered in the Bay.  It was just
+a speecial interposition . . . but I mind I telt ye.  Well, I just was
+dandering aboot outside the toon, and hettled to pu’ some of yon flax;
+man, I wasna fit; each leaf is calculated to bear a pressure of aboot a
+ton.  The natives, the Maories, use it to thack their cottages.  A bonny
+place, New Zealand, a pairfect pairadise—six-and-thirty years ago—aye,
+aye, ’oo aye, just the finest country in God’s airth.
+
+“Het?  Na, na, nane so het as here in simmer, a fine, dry air, and a
+bonny bright blue sky.  Dam’t, I mind the diggings opening tae.  There
+were a wheen captins.  Na, na, not sea captins, airmy captins, though
+there were plenty of the sea yins doon in the sooth; just airmy captins
+who had gone out and ta’en up land; blocked it, ye ken, far as frae here
+to Stirlin’.  Pay for it, aye, aboot a croon the acre, and a wee bit
+conseederation to the Government surveyor just kept things square.  Weel,
+when the diggins opened, some of them sold out and made a fortune.  Awfu’
+place thae diggins, I hae paid four shillin’ a pound for salt mysel’, and
+as for speerits, they were just fair contraband.
+
+“And the weemen.  Aye, I mind the time, but ye’ll hae seen the Circassian
+weemen aboot Africa.  Weel, weel, I’m no saying it’s not the case, but
+folk allow that yon Circassians are the finest weemen upon earth.  Whiles
+I hae seen some tae, at fairs, ye ken, in the bit boothies, but to my
+mind there’s naething like the Maories, especially the half-casted yins,
+clean-limbed, nigh on six feet high the maist o’ them.  Ye’ll no ken
+Geordie Telfer, him that was a sojer, he’s got a bit place o’ his ain out
+by Milngavie.  Geordie’s aye bragging, bostin’ aboot weemen that he’s
+seen in foreign pairts.  He just is of opeenion that in Cashmere or
+thereaboots there is the finest weemen in the warld.  Black, na, na,
+laird, just a wee toned and awfu’ tall, ye ken.  Geordie he says that
+Alexander the Great was up aboot Cashmere and that his sojers, Spartans I
+think they ca’ed them, just intromitted wi’ the native weemen, took them,
+perhaps, for concubines, as the Scriptures say; but ye’ll ken sojers,
+laird; Solomon, tae, an awfu’ chiel yon Solomon.  The Maori men were na
+blate either, a’ ower sax fut high, some nigh on seven fut, sure as
+death, I’m tellin’ ye.  Bonny wrestlers, tae; man, Donald Dinnie got an
+unco tirl wi’ ane o’ them aboot Dunedin, leastwise if it wasna Dinnie, it
+was Donald Grant or Donald McKenzie, or ane of they champions frae Easter
+Ross.  Sweir to sell their land tae they chaps, I mind the Government
+sent out old Sir George Grey, a wise-like man, Sir George, ane o’ they
+filantrofists.  Weel, he just talkit to them, ca’ed them his children,
+and said that they shouldna resist legeetimate authority.  Man, a wee
+wiry fella’, he was the licht-weight champion wrestler at Tiki-Tiki, just
+up and said, ‘Aye, aye, Sir George,’ though he wasna gi’en him Sir
+George, but just some native name they had for him, ‘we’re a’ your
+children, but no sic children as to gie our land for naething.’  Sir
+George turnit the colour of a neep, ane o’ yon swedes, ye ken, and said
+nae mair.”
+
+“How did they manage it?”
+
+“The Government just arranged matters wi’ the chiefs.  Bribery, weel a’
+weel, I’ll no gae sae far as to impute ony corruption on them, but a
+Government, a Government, ye ken, is very apt to hae its way.
+
+“Dam’t, ’twas a fine country, a pairfect pairadise.  I mind aince going
+oot with Captin Brigstock, Hell-fire Jock they ca’ed him, after they
+bushrangers.  There was ane Morgan frae Australlia bail’t up a wheen
+folks, and dam’t, says Captin Brigstock, ye’ll hae to come, Campbell.
+Shot him, yes, authority must be respected, and the majesty o’ law
+properly vendeecated, or else things dinna thrive.  It was in a wood of
+gora-gora we came on him about the mouth of day.  Morgan, ye ken, was
+boiling a billy in a sort o’ wee clearin’, his horse tied to a tree close
+by, when Brigstock and the others came upon him.  Brigstock just shouted
+in the name o’ the law and then let fly.  Morgan, he fell across the
+fire, and when we all came up says he, ‘Hell-fire, ye didna gie me ony
+chance,’ and the blood spouted from his mouth into the boiling pan.
+
+“Deid, ’oo aye, deid as Rob Roy.  I dinna care to mind it.  But a fine
+life, laird, nae slavin’ at the plough, but every ane goin’ aboot on
+horseback; and the bonny wee bit wooden huts, the folk no fashed wi’
+furniture, but sittin’ doon to tak’ their tea upon the floor wi’ their
+backs against the wall.  That’s why they ca’ed them squatters.  They talk
+aboot Australlia and America, but if it hadna been for the old folks I
+would hae made my hame aboot a place ca’ed Paratanga, and hae taken up
+with ane o’ they Maori girls, or maybe a half-caste.  Married, weel, I
+widna say I hae gane to such a length.  Dam’t, a braw country, laird, a
+pairfect pairadise, I’m telling ye;” and then the rain grew thicker, and
+seemed to come between us as he plodded on towards the “toon.”
+
+
+
+
+VICTORY
+
+
+RANKS upon ranks of rastaquoères, Brazilians, Roumanians, Russians,
+Bulgarians, with battalions of Americans, all seated round the “piazza”
+of the Grand Hotel.  Ladies from Boston, Chicago, and New York, their
+heels too high, their petticoats too much belaced, their Empire combs
+bediamonded so as to look almost like cut-glass chandeliers, as in their
+chairs they sat and read the latest news from Tampa, Santiago, and how
+Cervera’s Squadron met the fate which they (the ladies) reckoned God
+prepares for those who dare to fight against superior odds.
+
+Outside upon the boulevards, cocottes, guides, cabmen, and androgynous
+young men, touts, and all those who hang about that caravansary where the
+dulcet Suffolk whine, made sharper by the air of Massachusetts, sounds,
+passed and repassed.
+
+Smug-faced, black-coated citizens from Buffalo and Albany, and from
+places like Detroit and Council Bluffs, to which the breath of fashion
+has not penetrated, scanned the _New York Herald_, read the glorious
+news, and, taking off their hats, deigned publicly to recognize the
+existence of a God, and after standing reverently silent, masticating
+their green cigars in contemplation of His wondrous ways, to take a
+drink.
+
+Aquatic plants and ferns known only to hotels, and constituting a
+sub-family of plants, which by the survival of the ugliest have come at
+last to stand gas, dust, saliva, and an air befogged with Chypre, grew in
+the fountain where, in the tepid water, gold fish with swollen eyes, and
+blotched with patches of unhealthy white, swam to and fro, picking up
+crumbs and rising to the surface when some one threw a smoked-out
+cigarette into the basin, in the midst of which a fig-leaved Naiad held a
+stucco shell.
+
+The corridors were blocked with Saratoga trunks; perspiring porters
+staggered to and fro, bending beneath the weight of burdens compared to
+which a sailor’s chest is as a pill-box.
+
+All went well; the tapes clicked off their international lies, detailing
+all the last quotations of the deep mines upon the Rand, the fall in
+Spanish Fours; in fact, brought home to those with eyes to see, the way
+in which the Stock Exchange had put a rascals’ ring around the globe.
+
+Waiters ran to and fro, their ears attuned to every outrage upon French,
+seeking to find the meaning of the jargons in which they were addressed.
+
+Majestic butlers in black knee-breeches, and girt about the neck with
+great brass chains, moved slowly up and down, so grave and so respectable
+that had you laid your hands upon any one of them and made a bishop of
+him he would have graced the post.
+
+Mysterious, well-dressed men sat down beside you, and after a few words
+proposed to take you in the evening to show you something new.
+
+Women walked to and fro, glaring at one another as they had all been
+tigresses, or again, catching each other’s eyes, reddened, and looked
+ashamed, as if aware, though strangers, that they understood the workings
+of the other’s heart.
+
+Burano chandeliers and modern tapestry, with red brocade on the two
+well-upholstered chairs, imparted beauty and a look of wealth, making one
+feel as if by striking an electric bell a door would open and a troop of
+half-dressed women file into the court, after the fashion of another kind
+of inn.
+
+Outside the courtyard Paris roared, chattered, and yelped, cycles and
+automobiles made the poor _piéton’s_ life a misery, and set one thinking
+how inferior after all the Mind which thought out Eden was to our own.
+
+Upon the asphalt the horizontales lounged along, pushing against the
+likely-looking passer-by like cats against a chair.
+
+Cabs rattled, and the whole _clinquant_ town wore its best air of
+unreality, which it puts off alone upon the morning of a revolution.
+
+Through boulevards, parvis, cités, along the quays, in the vast open
+spaces which, like Saharas of grey stone, make the town desolate, in
+cafés, brothels, theatres, in church and studio, and wherever men most
+congregate, groups stood about reading the news, gesticulating, weeping,
+perspiring, and agog with a half-impotent enthusiastic orgasm of wildest
+admiration for Spain, Cervera, and the men who without bunkum or illusion
+steamed to certain death.  And, curiously enough, the execration fell not
+so much upon Chicago as on “ces cochons d’Anglais,” who by their base
+connivance had wrought the ruin of the Spanish cause.
+
+Yankees themselves read and remarked with sneers that England’s turn was
+coming next, and after “Kewby,” that they reckoned to drag the British
+flag through every dunghill in New York; then one winked furtively and
+said, “We need them now, but afterwards we’ll show Victoria in a cage for
+a picayune a peep, and teach the Britishers what to do with their old
+Union Jack,” thinking no doubt of the ten-cent paper which is sold in
+every city of the States, stamped with the Spanish flag.
+
+And as I sat, musing on things and others—thinking, for instance, that
+when you scratch a man and see his blood you know his nature by the way
+he bears his wound, and that the Spaniards, wounded to the death, were
+dying game (after the fashion of the English in times gone by, before
+Imperialism, before the Nonconformist snuffle, the sweating system, and
+the rest had changed our nature), and that the Yankees at the first touch
+cried out like curs, though they had money, numbers, and everything upon
+their side—I fell a-thinking on the Spain of old.  Inigo Lopez de
+Mendoza, el Gran Capitan, Cortes (not at the siege of Mexico, but in the
+rout before Algiers) came up before me, and I thought on the long
+warfare, extending over seven hundred years, by which Spain saved the
+southern half of Europe from the Moors; upon Gerona, Zaragoza, and, most
+of all, upon Cervera, last of the Quixotes, Vara de Rey, Linares, and the
+poor peasants from Galician hills, thyme-scented wastes in Lower Aragon,
+Asturian mountains, and Estremenian oak-woods, who, battling against
+superior numbers, short of food, of ammunition, and bereft of hope, were
+proving their descent from the grim soldiers of the Spanish “Tercios” of
+the Middle Ages, and making the invaders of their country pay for their
+piracy in blood.
+
+Blood is the conqueror’s coin the whole world over, and if the island
+which Columbus found for Spain pass into other hands, let those who take
+it pour out their blood like water to inaugurate their reign of peace.
+
+Where the connection between the senses and the brain comes in, which
+influences first, and how, or whether a wise Providence, always upon His
+guard (after the fashion of an operator in a Punch and Judy show),
+influences each man directly, as by celestial thought suggestion, I
+cannot tell.
+
+All that I know is, that once walking on the rampart gardens which in
+Cadiz overhang the sea and form the outside rim of the “Taza de Plata,”
+as the Spaniards call the town, I on a sudden saw the River Plate.  The
+Gauchos, plains, wild horses, the stony wastes, the ostriches (the
+“Alegria del Desierto”), came up before me, and in especial a certain
+pass over a little river called the Gualiyan; the sandy dip, the
+metallic-looking trees, the greenish river with the flamingoes and white
+herons and the black-headed swans; the vultures sitting motionless on the
+dead trees, and most of all the penetrating scent of the mimosa, known to
+the natives as the “espinillo de olor.”
+
+Turning and wondering why, I saw a stunted tree with yellow blossoms duly
+ticketed with its description “Mimosa” this or that, and with its
+“habitat” the warmer district of the River Plate.
+
+I leave these things to wise philosophers and to those men of science who
+seem to think mankind is worth the martyrdom of living dogs and cats; or
+who, maybe, drag out the entrails of their quivering fellow-mortals
+merely to stimulate their senses or erotic powers.
+
+But the “dwawm” over, looking about, fenced in by swarms of overjoyed
+Americans, all talking shrilly, reading out the news, exultant at the
+triumph of their fleet, puffed up and arrogant as only the descendants of
+the Puritans can be, I saw a Spaniard sitting with his daughter, a girl
+about nineteen.
+
+Himself a Castellano rancio, silent and grave, dressed all in black,
+moustache waxed to a point, square little feet like boxes, brown little
+hands, face like mahogany, hair cropped close, and with the unillusional
+fatalistic air of worldly wisdom mixed with simplicity which
+characterizes Spaniards of the older school.
+
+Being a Christian, he spoke no tongue but that which Christians use, was
+proud of it, proud of his ignorance, proud (I have no doubt) of his
+descent.
+
+No doubt he saw everything through the clear dazzling atmosphere of old
+Castille, which Spaniards of his kind seem to condense and carry off with
+them for use in other climes.
+
+Seeing so clearly, he saw nothing clear, for the intelligence of man is
+so contrived as to be ineffective if a mist of some sort is not
+interposed.
+
+The daughter fair, fair with the fairness of a Southern, blue-eyed, and
+skin like biscuit china, hands and feet fine, head well set on, and yet
+with the decided gestures and incisive speech, the “aire recio,” and the
+“meneo” of the hips in walking, of the women of her race.
+
+They sat some time before a pile of newspapers, the father smoking
+gravely, taking down the smoke as he were drinking it, and then in a few
+minutes breathing it out to serve as an embellishment to what he said,
+holding his cigarette meanwhile fixed in a little silver instrument
+contrived like two clasped hands.
+
+The Spanish newspapers were, of course, all without news, or said they
+had none, and as the daughter read, the old man punctuated with
+“Valiente,” “Pobrecitas,” and the like, when he heard how before El
+Caney, Vara de Rey had died, or how the Americans had shot the three
+Sisters of the Poor whose bodies were found lying with lint and medicine
+in their hands.
+
+“Read me the papers of the Americans, hija de mi corazon,” and she began,
+translating as she read.
+
+Reading of the whole agony, choking but self-possessed, she read: the
+_Vizcaya_, _Almirante Oquendo_, and the rest; the death of Villamil, he
+who at least redeemed the promise made to the Mother of his God in Cadiz
+before he put to sea.
+
+And as she read the old man gave no sign, sitting impassive as a fakir,
+or like an Indian warrior at the stake.
+
+She went on reading; the fleet steamed through the hell of shot and
+shell, took fire, was beached, blew up, and still he gave no sign.
+
+Cervera steps on board the conqueror’s ship, weeping, gives up his sword,
+and the old man sat still.
+
+When all was finished, and the last vessel burning on the rocks, slowly
+the tears fell down his old brown cheeks, and he broke silence.  “Virgen
+de Guadalupe, has not one escaped?” and the girl, looking at him through
+her now misty eyes, “No, papa, God has so willed it. . . .  What is wrong
+with your moustache?”
+
+Then, with an effort, he took down his grief, said quietly, “I must
+change my hairdresser,” got up, and offering his daughter his arm, walked
+out impassible, through the thick ranks of the defeated foe.
+
+
+
+
+ROTHENBERGER’S WEDDING
+
+
+SHORT and broad-shouldered, with the flaxen hair and porcelain-coloured
+eyes of the true man of Kiel or Koenigsberg, Dr. Karl Rothenberger prided
+himself on being a townsman of the Great Kant, “who make the critique of
+pure sense.”  For him in vain the modern mystic spread his nets; his
+mass, his psychological research, his ethics based on the saving of his
+own gelatinous soul, said nothing to the man of Koenigsberg.  His work to
+minister by electricity to the rheumatic, the gouty; to those who had
+loved perhaps well, but certainly in a vicarious and post-prandial
+fashion; his passion fishing with a float; a “goode felawe,” not too
+refined, but yet well educated; his literary taste bounded by idealistic
+novels about materialistic folk, and the drum-taps of the bards of
+Anglo-Saxon militarism; the doctor looked on the world as a vast
+operating theatre, sparing not even his own foibles in his diagnosis of
+mankind.  All sentiment he held if not accursed, yet as superfluous, and
+though he did not pride himself exactly on his opinions, knowing them
+well to be but the result of education, and of a few molecules of iron,
+more or less, in the composition of his blood, yet would deliver them to
+all and sundry, as he were lecturing to students in a university.  Women
+he held inferior to men, as really do almost all men, although they fear
+to say so; but again, he said, “de womens they have occupy my mind since
+I was eighteen years.”
+
+So after many wanderings in divers lands, he came, as wise men will, to
+London, and set up his household gods in a vast plane-tree-planted square
+(with cat ground in the middle called a garden), and of which the
+residents each had a key, but never walked in, sat in, or used in any
+way, though all of them would have gone to the stake rather than see a
+member of the public enter into its sacred precincts, or a stray child
+play in it, unless attended by a nurse.
+
+Honours and fees fell thick on Rothenberger, and he became greatly
+belettered, member of many a learned, dull society.  He duly purchased a
+degree; and squares and crescents quite a mile away sent out their
+patients, and were filled with the sonorous glory of his name.  One thing
+was wanting, and that one thing troubled him not a little; but he yet saw
+it was inevitable if he would rise to Harley Street or Saville Row, and
+the sleek pair of horses which (without bearing-reins) testify to a
+doctor’s status in the scientific world.  A wife, or as he said, a “real
+legitimate,” to prove to all his patients that he was a moral man.
+Strange that the domestic arrangements of a public man should militate
+for or against him; but so it is, at least in England, where even if a
+man cheat and spread ruin to thousands, yet he may find apologists,
+chiefly, of course, amongst that portion of the public who have not
+suffered by his delinquencies, so that his life be what is known as pure.
+Morals and purity in our group of islands seem to condone drunkenness,
+lies, and even theft (so that the sum stolen be large enough), and to
+have crystallized themselves into a censorship of precisely the very
+thing as to which no man or woman has the right to call another to
+account.
+
+So Rothenberger, looking about for a vessel by means of which to purify
+himself (and push his business), lit on a girl with money, living, as he
+said, “oot by Hampstead way;” went through the process known as courting,
+in a mixture of German and of English, eked out with Plaat-Deutsch, and
+finally induced the lady to fix the day on which to make him pure.
+Science and business jointly having so taken up his time that he had
+learnt but little English, he was at some loss, and left arrangements to
+the family of his intended wife.
+
+Not knowing English customs, he had written asking in what costume he
+should appear on the great day, and received a letter telling him to make
+his appearance at the church duly dressed in a tall hat, light trousers,
+and a new frock coat.  Frock coat he read as “frac,” and ordered wedding
+garments such as he thought suitable, with the addition of a brand-new
+evening coat.  The wedding breakfast having been ordered at the Hotel
+Metropole, he there transferred himself, proposing to pass the night
+before his final entry into moral life quietly and decently, as befits
+one about to change his state.  But as he said, “God or some other thing
+was of another mind,” for when I was arriving at the place, mein head
+feel heavy, and I was out of sorts, and when I ring the bell, a housemaid
+answer it wit a hot-water jug, and came into the room.  Himmel, what for
+a girl, black hair like horse’s tail, great glear plue eyes, and tall and
+fat, it was a miracle.  I fall in love wit her almost at once, but I say
+nothings, only wink little at her with my eye.  All the night long I
+could not schleep, thinking part of the housemaid, part of mein wife, and
+part if perhaps I was not going to do a very silly ding.  When it was
+morning I have quite forgot the church, but still remember what the
+clergyman was like.  So I go to the porter (he was a landsman of my own),
+and ask him to get me a cab, and then explain, I was to be married oot by
+Hampstead way, that morning at eleven and half o’clock.  The porter say
+what church shall I tell the schelm to drive to, but mein Got I have
+forgot.  So I say, go to Hampstead, and I will go to all the churches and
+ask if a German is to be married, till I find the right one out.  The
+cabman think that I was mad, and I get into the cab dressed in clear
+trousers, white waistcoat, and plue necktie, mit little spot; shiny new
+boots that hurt me very much; with yellow gloves three-quarter-eight in
+size, and with my new “frac” coat, so that I think myself, eh,
+Rothenberger, was that really you?  The cabman wink mit de porter, and we
+start away.  We drive and drive, first to one church and then another,
+and I always ask, is it in this church that a German is to be marry at
+half twelve o’clock?  Dey grin at me, and every one say no.  De dime
+approach, and I was sweating in the cab, not knowing what they say if at
+half twelve o’clock I not turn up to time.  At last looking out from the
+window I see the clergyman walking along the street mit a big hymnbook in
+his hand.  I cry to him, Ach Himmel, it is I, Karl Rothenberger, that you
+must marry at half twelve o’clock.  He stop, and shomp into the cab, and
+then we drive to church.
+
+All was so glad to see me, for I hear one say, I thought the German must
+have change his mind.  I ran into the church, and my wife say, What for a
+costume is it that you have?  Frock coat and clear grey pants, dat is not
+wedding dress; so I say I know dat, but why you write to me, mind and buy
+a new “frac coat”?
+
+They mumble out their stuff, and when the clergyman ask me if I want this
+woman for mein wife, I say, all right, and all the people laugh like
+everythings.  Then when he say, I, Karl, do promise and etcetera, I say,
+dat is so, and de people laugh again.  At last it all was done, and we
+drive off to the hotel to have the breakfast, and mein wife look
+beautiful in her new travelling dress.  At the hotel the company was met,
+and I go up to mein apartment to change the dam frac coat, to wash mein
+hands, and put a little brillantine on my moustache, whilst mein wife mit
+the bridesmaids go to another room, and all the company was waiting down
+below.
+
+I want hot water, so I rang the bell, and the stout pretta chambermaid
+she bring it in a jug.  How the thing pass I never knew till now, but I
+wink at her, and she laugh, and then—she put down the jug, just for a
+moment,—for the company, mein wife, her father, and the bridesmaids, all
+was waiting down below.  So I come down and make mein speech, talk to the
+bridesmaids, and we eat like anythings, and then we drive away to pass
+our honeymoon, and somehow I feel mein head much lighter than before.
+Marriage is good for man, it sober him, it bring him business, and it
+bring him children, and . . .  I am happy mit my wife . . .  The
+housemaid, oh yes, ach Got, I hear that some one take from the place to
+live mit him, and it is not a wonder, for she was so tall, so stout, have
+such black hair, and such great eyes, it was a pity that she spend her
+life answering the bell, and bringing up hot water in a jug.
+
+
+
+
+LA CLEMENZA DE TITO
+
+
+THE hotel paper had a somewhat misguiding “Comfort” as its telegraphic
+address.  Upon the walls were reproductions of sporting prints by Leech,
+depicting scions of the British aristocracy taking their pleasures not so
+very sadly after all, and easily demonstrating their superiority to
+several smock-frocked rustics by galloping close past them, and shouting
+“Tally-ho,” holding their left ear between their thumb and finger to
+emphasize the note.  Apollinaris and whisky splits, Fritz Rupprecht’s
+“Special,” with other advertisements of a like nature, filled up the
+blanks between the oleographs.  _Iron and Commerce_, with the _Cook’s
+Excursionist and Engineering_, lay untouched upon the tables, serving to
+show that if some books be not real books at all, there are newspapers
+which are, as it were, but dummies, holding no police news, football
+specials, murders, assaults on women, divorce cases, and other items
+which the educated public naturally expects within their sheets.
+Slipshod and futile, but attentive German waiters, went about bringing
+hot whisky, whisky and soda, whisky and lemonade, and whisky neat to the
+belated customers.  Upon the tables glasses had made great rings,
+commercial travellers had left their pigskin satchels in a heap, and, by
+the fire, a group of travellers sat silently drinking after the Scottish
+fashion, and spitting in the grate.  Twelve o’clock, half-past twelve,
+then one by one they dropped away murmuring good-night, and setting down
+their glasses with an air of having worked manfully for a good night’s
+repose.
+
+Still I sat on gazing into the fire, and almost unaware that on the other
+side sat a companion of my vigil, till at last he said, “Do you know
+Yambo, sir?” and to my vague assent rejoined, “Yambo on the Arabian
+coast, just opposite Hodeida, where vessels in the pilgrim trade
+discharge their ‘niggers.’  It’s the port for Mecca, that is, the
+‘Sambaks’ used to put in there, but now we do the traffic right from
+Mogador.”  I looked with interest at the man, liking his Demosthenic
+style of opening remarks.  Tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in navy
+blue, boots like small packing-cases, and a green necktie in which was
+stuck a cairngorm pin; he wore a silver watch-chain with a small
+steering-wheel attached to it; not quite a sailor, yet a look of the sea
+about his clothes; he had a face open and innocent, yet wrinkled round
+the eyes like a young elephant, and struck me as being, perhaps not
+foolish, certainly not wise, but with a tinge of worldly wisdom gathered
+in seaport towns, at music-halls, and other places where those who go
+down to the sea in ships gain their experience of life.  “Yambo,” I said;
+“I thought that Jeddah was the port the pilgrims landed at.”  “Well, so
+it is,” he said, “but I was thinking about Yambo, been there a many
+times, used to run arms for the tribes to fight the Turks, when I was
+fourth engineer in the old _Pyramus_.  Yes, yes, I’ve been at sea most
+all my life, though my old dad keeps a slap-up hotel at
+Weston-super-Mare.  No need to go to sea, no, but you know some folks
+would go to hell for pleasure, and I suppose I’m one.  Dad, you know—now
+were you ever at Weston-super-Mare?—is fond of literature, does a bit
+himself, Chambers you know; mostly upon the conchology and the fossils of
+the South Devon coast; awfully fond of it, and so am I, nothing I like
+better than, after getting out of the engine-room, to lie on deck and
+read one of Bulwer’s books or Dickens’s, both of them stunning.  No, I
+never write myself.  Can’t make out what set me thinking about Yambo.
+What! you won’t?  Well, waiter, waiter, Garçong, as we used to say at
+Suez, another whisky, slippy, you know.  I’ve always been a temperate
+man, but like a nightcap before turning in.  Perim ain’t so far off from
+Yambo; ah yes, now I remember what it was I had to say.  You know them
+Galla girls? prime, ain’t they?  But Perim, I remember being Shanghaied
+there, nothing to do, a beastly hole; sand, beastly, gets in your socks,
+gets in your hair, makes you feel dirty, no matter how you wash.  Well,
+you know, there were about two hundred of us there, some kind of
+Government work was going on, and I was left there out of my ship, kind
+of loaned off, you see, to help the Johnnies at the condensing works.
+I’ve been at Suez, Yambo as I told you, Rangoon, down at Talcahuano on
+the Chilean coast, wrecked in Smythe’s Channel, and been about a bit, but
+Perim fairly takes the cake, not even a sheet of blotting-paper between
+it and hell.  As I was saying, then, we were cooped up, and not a woman
+in the place; even the Government saw it at last, thought maybe worse
+would happen if they did nothing, and sent and got six of them Galla
+girls.  Leastwise, if they didn’t send for them, they let a Levantine,
+Mirandy was his name, introduce them on the strict Q.T.  Well, you know,
+the thing was like this, sir—you know them Galla girls, black as a boot
+and skins always as cool as ice, even in a khamsin; some people says they
+are better than white girls; but not in mine; but anyhow they’ve got no
+‘Bookay d’Afreek’ about them, it always turns me sick.  As I was saying,
+I thought I’d have a ‘pasear’ one evening, so I lemonaded up to the
+‘Mansion,’ and began talking to one of them girls, sort of to pass the
+time.  Serpent upon the rocks, eh? well, that old Solomon knew something
+about girls.  Now here comes in the curious thing, it always strikes me
+just as if I’d read it in a book; Dickens now or Thackeray could have
+’andled it, Bulwer would ’ave made it a little loosious.  Just as the gal
+was taking off her things—oh, no offence, captain, I’m telling you the
+thing just as it happened—I saw she had a crucifix a-hanging round her
+neck.  Papist?  Oh no, not much; father, he sat under Rev. Hiles
+Hitchens, light of the Congregationalists.  No, no, nothing to do with
+Rome, never could bear the influence of the confessor in a family.  A
+little free myself, especially below latitude forty, but at ’ome and in
+the family I like things ship-shape.  Well, as I said, round her black
+neck she had a silver crucifix, contrast of colour made the thing stand
+out double the size.  Ses I, ‘What’s that?’ and she says, ‘Klistian girl,
+Johnny, me Klistian all the same you.’  That was a stopper over all, and
+I just reached for my hat, says, ‘Klistian are yer,’ and I gave her two
+of them Spanish dollars and a kiss, and quit the place.  What did she
+say?  Why, nothing, looked at me and laughed, and says, ‘You Klistian,
+Johnny, plenty much damn fool.’  No, I don’t know what she meant, I done
+my duty, and that’s all I am concerned about.
+
+“Another half, just a split whisky and Apollinaris.  Well, if you won’t,
+good-night;” and the door slammed, leaving me gazing at the
+fast-blackening fire.
+
+
+
+
+SOHAIL
+
+
+SOHAIL is the Arabic name of the star Canopus, to which a curious belief
+belongs.  It appears that in some fashion, known alone to Allah, the fate
+of the Arab race is bound up with the star.  Where it sheds its light
+their empire flourishes, and there alone.  Wherefore or why the thing is
+so, no true believer seems to know, but that it is so he is well aware,
+and that suffices him.
+
+Questionings and doubts, changes of costume and religion, striving for
+ideals, improvements, telegraphs and telephones, are well enough for
+Christians, whose lives are passed in hurry and in hunting after gold.
+For those who have changed but little for the last two thousand years, in
+dress, in faith and customs, it is enough to know it is a talismanic
+star.  Let star-gazers and those who deal in books, dub the star Alpha
+(or Beta) Argo, it is all one to Arabs.  If you question knowledge, say
+the Easterns, it falls from its estate.  If this is so the empiric method
+has much to answer for.  Knowledge and virtue and a horse’s mouth should
+not pass through too many hands.  Knowledge is absolute, and even
+argument but dulls it, and strips it of its authenticity, as the bloom of
+a ripe peach is lost, almost by looking on it.
+
+Of one thing there can be no doubt.  When in the Yemen, ages before the
+first historian penned the fable known as history, the Arabs, watching
+their flocks, observed Sohail, it seems to have struck them as a star
+differing from all the rest.
+
+Al-Makkari writes of it on several occasions.  The Dervish Abderahman
+Sufi of Rai, in his _Introduction to the Starry Heavens_, remarks that,
+at the feet of Sohail is seen, in the neighbourhood of Bagdad, a “curious
+white spot.”  The “curious white spot” astronomers have thought to be the
+greater of the two Magellan clouds.  Perhaps it is so, but I doubt if the
+Arabs, as a race, were concerned about the matter, so that they saw the
+star.
+
+From wandering warring tribes Mohammed made a nation of them.  Mohammed
+died and joined the wife in paradise, of whom he said, “By Allah, she
+shall sit at my right hand, because when all men laughed she clave to
+me.”  Then came Othman, Ali, and the rest, and led them into other lands,
+to Irak, Damascus, El Hind, to Ifrikia, lastly to Spain, and still their
+empire waxed, even across the “black waters” of the seas, and still
+Sohail was there to shine upon them.  In the great adventure, one of the
+few in which a people has engaged; when first Tarik landed his Berbers on
+the rock which bears his name; at the battle on the Guadalete where the
+king, Don Roderick, disappeared from the eyes of men, leaving his golden
+sandals by a stream; to Seville, Cordoba, and Murcia, the land of Teodmir
+ben Gobdos, to which the Arabs gave the name of Masr, right up to
+Zaragoza, Sohail accompanied the host.  A curious host it must have been
+with Muza riding on a mule, and with but two-and-twenty camels to carry
+all its baggage.  From Jativa to Huesca of the Bell, where King Ramiro,
+at the instigation of Abbot Frotardo (a learned man), cut off his nobles’
+heads as they were poppies in a field, they followed it across the
+Pyrenees, halting at the spot where from his “Camp in Aquitaine” Muza
+dispatched a messenger to Rome to tell the Pope that he was coming to
+take him by the beard if he refused Islam.  Then the wise men (who always
+march with armies), looking aloft at night, declared the star was lost.
+Although they smote the Christian dogs, taking their lands, their
+daughters, horses, and their gold, on several occasions as Allah willed
+it, yet victory was not so stable as in Spain.  Perhaps beyond the
+mountains their spirits fell from lack of sun, or their horses sickened
+in the fat plains of France.
+
+Then the conquering tide had spent itself and flowed back into Spain; at
+Zaragoza the first Moorish kingdom rose.  Al-Makkari writes that at that
+time Sohail was visible in Upper Aragon, but low on the horizon.  Again
+the Christians conquered, and the royal race of Aben Hud fled from the
+city.  Ibn Jaldun relates that, shortly afterwards, Sohail became
+invisible from Aragon.  The Cid, Rodrigo Diaz, he of Vivar (may God
+remember him), prevailed against Valencia, and from thence the star,
+indignant, took its departure.  And so of Jativa, Beni Carlo, and
+Alpuixech.
+
+Little by little Elche, with its palm-woods, and even Murcia bade it
+good-bye, as one by one, in the centuries of strife, the Christians in
+succession conquered each one of them.  At last the belief gained ground
+that, only at one place in Spain, called from the circumstance Sohail,
+could the star be seen.  At Fuengirola, between Malaga and Marbella,
+still stands the little town the Arabs called Sohail, lost amongst
+sand-hills, looking across at Africa, of which it seems to form a part;
+cactus and olive, cane-brake and date palms, its chiefest vegetation; in
+summer, hot as Bagdad, in winter, sheltered from the winds which come
+from Christendom by the Sierras of the Alpujarra and Segura.  Surely
+there the star would stop, and let the Arab power flourish under its
+influence, and there for centuries it did stand stationary.  The City of
+the Pomegranate was founded, the Alhambra, with its brilliant court, the
+Generalife; and poets, travellers, and men of science gathered at
+Granada, Cordoba, and at Isbilieh.  Ab-Motacim, the poet king of Cordoba,
+planted the hills with almond trees, to give the effect of snow, which
+Romaiquia longed for.  He wrote his _Kasidas_, and filled the courtyard
+full of spices and sugar for his queen to trample on, when she saw the
+women of the brick-makers kneading the clay with naked feet, and found
+her riches but a burden to her.  Averroes and Avicenna, the doctors of
+medicine and of law, laid down their foolish rules of practice and of
+conduct, and all went well.  Medina-el-Azahra, now a pile of stones where
+shepherds sleep or make believe to watch their sheep, where once the
+Caliph entertained the ambassador from Constantinople, showing him the
+golden basin full of quicksilver, “like a great ocean,” rose from the
+arid hills, and seemed eternal.  Allah appeared to smile upon his people,
+and in proof of it let his star shine.  Jehovah though was jealous.  A
+jealous God, evolved by Jews and taken upon trust by Christians, could
+not endure the empire of Islam.  Again town after town was conquered,
+Baeza, Loja, Antequera, Guadix and Velez-Malaga, even Alhama (Woe is me,
+Alhama), lastly Granada.  Then came the kingdom of the Alpujarra, with
+the persecutions and the rebellions, Arabs and Christians fighting like
+wolves and torturing one another for the love of their respective Gods.
+Yet the star lingered on at Fuengirola, and whilst it still was seen hope
+was not lost.  A century elapsed, and from Gibraltar—from the spot where
+first they landed—the last Moors embarked.  In Spain, where once they
+ruled from Jaca to Tarifa, no Moor was left.  Perhaps about the mountain
+villages of Ronda a few remained, but christianized by force, the sword
+and faggot ever the best spurs to the true faith.  But they were not the
+folk to think of stars or legends, so that no one (of the true faith)
+could say whether Sohail still lingered over Spain.
+
+Trains, telegraphs, and phonographs, elections and debates in parliament,
+with clothes unsuited to the people they deform, give a false air of
+Europe to the land.  The palm-trees, cactus, canes, and olives, the tapia
+walls, the women’s walk and eyes, the horses’ paces, and the fatalistic
+air which hangs on everything, give them the lie direct.  The empire of
+the Arabs, though departed, yet retains its hold.  The hands that built
+the mosque at Cordoba, the Giralda, the Alhambra, and almost every parish
+church in Southern Spain, from ruined aqueduct and mosque, sign to the
+Christian half derisively.  So all the land from the gaunt northern
+mountains to the hot swamps along the Guad-el-Kebir (stretching from
+Seville to San Lucar) is part of Africa.  The reasons are set forth
+lengthily by the ethnographers, economists, and the grave foolish rout of
+those who write for people who know nothing, of what they do not
+understand themselves.
+
+But the star’s lingering is the real cause, and whilst it lingers things
+can never really go on in Spain as they go on in England, where gloom
+obscures all stars.  The Arabs, issuing from the desert like the khamsin,
+came, conquered, and possessed, their star shone on them, and its rays
+sank deep into the land.  Their empire waned, and they, retreating,
+disappeared into the sands from whence they sprang.  Spain knows them
+not, but yet their influence remains.  Only at Cadiz can the talisman be
+seen, shining low down on the horizon, and still waiting till the
+precession of the equinoxes takes it across the Straits.  Let it recross,
+and shine upon the old wild life of the vast plains, upon the horsemen
+flying on the sands, whirling and circling like gulls, whilst the veiled
+women raise the joyous cry which pierces ears and soul; upon the solemn
+stately men who sit and look at nothing all a summer’s day, and above all
+upon the waveless inland sea men call the Sahara.
+
+There may it shine for ever on the life unchanged since the Moalakat,
+when first the rude astronomers observed the talisman and framed the
+legend on some starry night, all seated on the ground.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 THE END
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                      RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED,
+                             LONDON & BUNGAY.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+NOTES.
+
+
+{20}  A redomon is a half-tamed horse.
+
+{26}  Hydrochoerus capybara.
+
+{32}  The Gauchos often lay a deer-skin on their saddles, and wear boots
+made of deer-skin, alleging that serpents are afraid to touch them.
+
+{46}  Accustomed pasture.
+
+{51}  The Brazilians call the tapir “O gran besta.”  The Guarani word is
+Mborebi.
+
+{52}  Potrero is a fenced pasture, from “potro,” a colt.
+
+{54a}  “Matto” is a wood in Portuguese, and at these two Mattos,
+tradition says, the rival armies had encamped.
+
+{54b}  Except for the Gaelic “larach,” I know no word in any language
+which exactly corresponds to “tapera,” as indicating the foundations of a
+house grassed over.
+
+{56a}  Called _Superior de las misiones_.
+
+{56b}  Feliz de Azara, _Description y Historia del Paraguay_.
+
+{56c}  Es menester convenir, en que aunque los padres manda ban alli en
+todo, usaron de su autoridad con una suavidad y moderacion que no puede
+menos de admirarse.—Azara, _Historia del Paraguay_, Tom. 1, p. 282:
+Madrid 1847.
+
+{60a}  Piptadenia communis.
+
+{60b}  Acacia maleolens.
+
+{60c}  Vitex Taruma.
+
+{60d}  Genipa Americana.
+
+{62}  “Estero” is the word used in Paraguay for a marsh.  These marshes
+are generally hard at the bottom, so that you splash through them for
+leagues without danger, though the water is often up to the horse’s
+girths.
+
+{63a}  Alazan tostado antes muerto que cansado.  The Arabs think highly
+of the dark chestnut.  See the Emir Abdul Kader on Horsemanship.
+
+{63b}  The Yatai is a dwarf palm.  It is the Cocos Yatais of botanists.
+
+{63c}  Cattle-farm.
+
+{69}  Cocos Australis.
+
+{78}  Guazu is big, in Guarani.
+
+{131}  It had a chorus reflecting upon convent discipline:
+
+    “For though the convent rule was strict and tight,
+    She had her exits and her entrances by night.”
+
+{170a}  “Medias hasta la berija
+Con cada ojo como un charco,
+Y cada ceja era un arco
+Para correr la sortija.”
+
+{170b}  “En un overo rosao, fletel lindo y parejito,
+Cayo al bajo al trotecito, y lindamente sentao.
+Un paisano del Bragao, de apelativo Laguna,
+Mozo ginetazo ahijuna, como creo que no hay otro
+Capaz a llevar un potro a sofrenarlo en la luna.”
+
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIRTEEN STORIES***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 48510-0.txt or 48510-0.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/8/5/1/48510
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
+be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
+law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
+so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
+States without permission and without paying copyright
+royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
+of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
+and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
+specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
+eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
+for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
+performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given
+away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks
+not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the
+trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.
+
+START: FULL LICENSE
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
+Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
+destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
+possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
+Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
+by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
+person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
+1.E.8.
+
+1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
+agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
+Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
+of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
+works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
+States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
+United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
+claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
+displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
+all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
+that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
+free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
+works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
+Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
+comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
+same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
+you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
+in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
+check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
+agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
+distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
+other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
+representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
+country outside the United States.
+
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
+immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
+prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
+on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
+performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
+
+  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+  most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
+  restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
+  under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
+  eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
+  United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you
+  are located before using this ebook.
+
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
+derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
+contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
+copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
+the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
+redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
+either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
+obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
+trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
+additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
+will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
+posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
+beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
+any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
+to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
+other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
+version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
+(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
+to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
+of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
+Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
+full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+provided that
+
+* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
+  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
+  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
+  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
+  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
+  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
+  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
+  Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
+  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
+  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
+  works.
+
+* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
+  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
+  receipt of the work.
+
+* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
+are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
+from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
+Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
+Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
+contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
+or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
+other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
+cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
+with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
+with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
+lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
+or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
+opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
+the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
+without further opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
+OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
+damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
+violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
+agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
+limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
+unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
+remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
+accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
+production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
+including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
+the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
+or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
+additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
+Defect you cause.
+
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
+computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
+exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
+from people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
+generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
+Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
+www.gutenberg.org 
+
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary 
+Archive Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
+U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
+mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
+volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
+locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
+Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to
+date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
+official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+
+    Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+    Chief Executive and Director
+    gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
+DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
+state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
+donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
+freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
+distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
+volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
+the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
+necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
+edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
+facility: www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/48510-0.zip b/48510-0.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..56d78c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/48510-0.zip
diff --git a/48510-h.zip b/48510-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..883a172
--- /dev/null
+++ b/48510-h.zip
diff --git a/48510-h/48510-h.htm b/48510-h/48510-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af06562
--- /dev/null
+++ b/48510-h/48510-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,6115 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html
+     PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+     "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" />
+<title>Thirteen Stories, by R. B. Cunninghame Graham</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    P {  margin-top: .75em;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;}
+    P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; }
+    .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; }
+    H1, H2 {
+         text-align: center;
+		margin-top: 2em;
+		margin-bottom: 2em;
+         }
+    H3, H4, H5 {
+	text-align: center;
+	margin-top: 1em;
+	margin-bottom: 1em;
+	}
+    BODY{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+ table { border-collapse: collapse; }
+table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;}
+    td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;}
+    td p { margin: 0.2em; }
+    .blkquot  {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */
+
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+    .pagenum {position: absolute;
+               left: 92%;
+               font-size: small;
+               text-align: right;
+		font-weight: normal;
+               color: gray;
+               }
+    img { border: none; }
+    img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; }
+    p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; }
+    div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; }
+    div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} 
+    div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%;
+                  border-top: 1px solid; }
+    div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%;
+		  border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;}
+     div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%;
+                  margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid;
+                  border-bottom: 1px solid; }
+    div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%;
+                  margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid;
+                  border-bottom: 1px solid;}
+    div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%;
+		  border-top: 1px solid; }
+    .citation {vertical-align: super;
+               font-size: .8em;
+               text-decoration: none;}
+    img.floatleft { float: left;
+			margin-right: 1em;
+			margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+    img.floatright { float: right;
+			margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em;
+			margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+    img.clearcenter {display: block;
+			margin-left: auto;
+			margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em;
+			margin-bottom: 0.5em}
+    -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Thirteen Stories, by R. B. Cunninghame Graham
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 
+whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at 
+www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: Thirteen Stories
+
+
+Author: R. B. Cunninghame Graham
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 17, 2015  [eBook #48510]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIRTEEN STORIES***
+</pre>
+<p>This eBook was transcribed by Les Bowler</p>
+<h1>Thirteen Stories</h1>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center">By<br />
+R. B. Cunninghame Graham</p>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">Author
+of</span><br />
+&ldquo;Mogreb-El-Acksa,&rdquo; etc.</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">
+<a href="images/tpb.jpg">
+<img alt=
+"Decorative graphic"
+title=
+"Decorative graphic"
+ src="images/tps.jpg" />
+</a></p>
+<p style="text-align: center">London<br />
+William Heinemann<br />
+1900</p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p><a name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. iv</span><span
+class="GutSmall"><i>All rights</i></span><span class="GutSmall">,
+</span><span class="GutSmall"><i>including
+translation</i></span><span class="GutSmall">, </span><span
+class="GutSmall"><i>reserved</i></span></p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><a name="pagev"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. v</span><i>To</i></p>
+<p style="text-align: center"><i>George Morton Mansel</i></p>
+<p><i>I Dedicate these sketches</i>, <i>stories</i>,
+<i>studies</i>, <i>or what do you call them</i>.&nbsp; <i>We have
+galloped together over many leagues of Pampa</i>, <i>by day and
+night</i>, <i>and therefore I hope he will find the tales</i>
+(<i>or what do you call them</i>) <i>as near square by the lifts
+and braces</i>, <i>as is to be expected from a mere
+landsman</i>.</p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p><i>Acknowledgments are due to</i>:</p>
+<p><i>The</i> &ldquo;<i>Saturday Review</i>,&rdquo; <i>the</i>
+&ldquo;<i>Westminster Gazette</i>,&rdquo; <i>and</i>
+&ldquo;<i>Justice</i>,&rdquo; <i>in which papers several of the
+Sketches included in this volume have appeared</i>.</p>
+<h2><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+vii</span>PREFACE</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">To-day</span> in warfare all the niceties
+of old-world tactics are fallen into contempt.&nbsp; No word of
+outworks, ravelins, of mamelons, of counter-scarps, of glacis,
+fascines; none of the terms by means of which Vauban obscured his
+art, are even mentioned.&nbsp; Armies fall to and blow such
+brains as they may have out of each other&rsquo;s heads without
+so much as a salute.&nbsp; And so of literature, your &ldquo;few
+first words,&rdquo; your &ldquo;avant-propos,&rdquo; your nice
+approaches to the reader, giving him beforehand some taste of
+what is to follow, have also fallen into disuse.&nbsp; The man of
+genius (and in no age has self-dubbed genius called out so loud
+in every street, and been accepted at its own appraisement)
+stuffs you his epoch-making book full of the technicalities of
+some obscure or half-forgotten trade, and rattles on at once,
+sans introduction, twenty knots an hour, like a torpedo
+boat.&nbsp; No preface, dedication, not even <a
+name="pageviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. viii</span>an
+apology <i>pro existenti&acirc; ejus</i> intervening betwixt the
+bewildered public and the full power of his wit.&nbsp; A
+graceless way of doing things, and not comparable to the slow
+approach by &ldquo;prefatory words,&rdquo; &ldquo;censura,&rdquo;
+&ldquo;dedication,&rdquo; by means of which the writers of the
+past had half disarmed the critic ere he had read a line.&nbsp; I
+like to fancy to myself the progress of a fight in days gone by,
+with marching, countermarching, manoeuvring, so to speak, for the
+weather-gauge, and then the general engagement all by the book of
+arithmetic, and squadrons going down like men upon a chessboard
+after nice calculation, and like gentlemen.</p>
+<p>Who, hidden in a wood, watching a nymph about to bathe, would
+care to see her strip off her &ldquo;duds&rdquo; like an
+umbrella-case, and bounce into the river like a
+water-rat?&mdash;a lawn upon the grass, a scarf hung on a bush, a
+petticoat rocked by the wind upon the sward, then the shy trying
+of the water with the naked feet, and lastly something flashing
+in the sun which you could hardly swear you had seen, so rapidly
+it passed into the stream, would most enchant the gaze of the
+rapt watcher hidden behind his tree.&nbsp; And so of literature,
+wheedle me by degrees, your reader to your book, as did the
+giants of the past in graceful <a name="pageix"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. ix</span>preface, dedication, or what do you
+call it, that got the readers, so to speak, into the book before
+they were aware.&nbsp; It seems to me, a world all void of grace
+must needs be cruel, for cruelty and grace go not together, and
+perhaps the hearts of the pig-tailed, pipe-clayed generals of the
+past were not more hard than are the hearts of their tweed-clad
+descendants who now-a-days blow you a thousand savages to
+paradise, and then sit down to lunch.</p>
+<p>Let there be no mistake; the writer and the reader are sworn
+foes.&nbsp; The writer labouring for bread, or hopes of fame,
+from idleness, from too much energy, or from that uncontrollable
+dance of St. Vitus in the muscles of the wrist which prompts so
+many men to write (the Lord knows why), works, blots, corrects,
+rewrites, revises, and improves; then publishes, and for the most
+part is incontinently damned.&nbsp; Then comes the reader
+cavalierly, as the train shunts at Didcot, or puffs and snorts
+into Carlisle, and gingerly examining the book says it is
+rubbish, and that he wonders how people who should have something
+else to do, find time to spend their lives in writing trash.</p>
+<p>I take it that there is a modesty of mind as deep implanted in
+the soul of man as is the <a name="pagex"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. x</span>supergrafted post-Edenian modesty of
+the body; which latter, by the way, so soon is lost, restraints
+of custom or convention laid aside.</p>
+<p>Who that would strip his clothes off, and walk down
+Piccadilly, even if the day were warm (the police all drunk or
+absent), without some hesitation, and an announcement of his
+purpose, say, in the columns of the <i>Morning Post</i>?</p>
+<p>Therefore, why strip the soul stark naked to the public gaze
+without some hesitation and due interval, by means of which to
+make folk understand that which you write is what you think you
+feel; part of yourself, a part, moreover, which once given out
+can never be recalled?</p>
+<p>So of the sketches in this book, most of them treat of scenes
+seen in that magic period, youth, when things impress themselves
+on the imagination more sharply than in after years; and the
+scenes too have vanished; that is, the countries where they
+passed have all been changed, and now-a-days are full of
+barbed-wire fences, advertisements, and desolation, the
+desolation born of imperfect progress.&nbsp; The people, too, I
+treat of, for the most part have disappeared; being born unfit
+for progress, it has passed over them, and their place is
+occupied by worthy men who cheat to <a name="pagexi"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. xi</span>better purpose, and more
+scientifically.&nbsp; Therefore, I, writing as a man who has not
+only seen but lived with ghosts, may perhaps find pardon for this
+preface, for who would run in heavily and dance a hornpipe on the
+turf below which sleep the dead?&nbsp; And if I am not pardoned
+for my hesitation, dislike, or call it what you will, to give
+these little sketches to the world without preamble, after my
+fashion, I care not overmuch.</p>
+<p>In the phantasmagoria we call the world, most things and men
+are ghosts, or at the best but ghosts of ghosts, so vaporous and
+unsubstantial that they scarcely cast a shadow on the
+grass.&nbsp; That which is most abiding with us is the
+recollection of the past, and . . . hence this preface.</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">R. B. <span
+class="smcap">Cunninghame Graham</span>.</p>
+<h2><a name="pagexiii"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+xiii</span><i>CONTENTS</i></h2>
+<table>
+<tr>
+<td><p>&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Page</i></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>Cruz Alta</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page1">1</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>In a German Tramp</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page85">85</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>The Gold Fish</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page103">103</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>A Hegira</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page119">119</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>Sidi Bu Zibbal&agrave;</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page145">145</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>La Pulperia</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page163">163</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>Higginson&rsquo;s Dream</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page177">177</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>Calvary</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page189">189</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>A Pakeha</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page201">201</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>Victory</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page209">209</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>Rothenberger&rsquo;s Wedding</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page219">219</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>La Clemenza De Tito</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page227">227</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><i>Sohail</i></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page235">235</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>CRUZ
+ALTA</h2>
+<p><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span>Pasted
+into an old scrap-book, chiefly filled with newspaper cuttings
+from Texan and Mexican newspapers containing accounts of Indian
+fights, the prowess of different horses (notably of a celebrated
+&ldquo;claybank,&rdquo; which carried the mail-rider from El Paso
+to Oakville, Arizona), and interspersed with advertisements of
+strayed animals, pictures of Gauchos, Indians, Chilians,
+Brazilians, and Gambusinos, is an old coffee-coloured business
+card.&nbsp; On it is set forth, that Francisco Cardozo de
+Carvallo is the possessor of a &ldquo;Grande Armazem de Fazendas,
+ferragems, drojas, chapeos, miudezas, e objectos de fantasia e de
+modas.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>All the above, &ldquo;Com grande reduccao nos
+pre&ccedil;os.&rdquo;&nbsp; Then occurs the significant
+adverten&ccedil;a, &ldquo;Mas A Dinheiro,&rdquo; and the address
+Rua do Commercio, No. 77.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Cruz
+Alta</span>.</p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p><span class="smcap">Often</span> on winter nights when all the
+air is filled with whirling leaves dashing against the panes,
+when through the house sweep gusts of wind making the passages
+unbearable with cold, the rooms disconsolate, and the whole place
+feel eerie and ghostlike as the trees creak, groan and labour,
+like a ship at sea, I take the scrap-book down.</p>
+<p>In it are many things more interesting by far to me at certain
+times than books or papers, or than the conversation of my valued
+friends; almost as great a consolation as is tobacco to a bruised
+<a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 4</span>mind; and
+then I turn the pages over with delight tinged with that
+melancholy which is the best part of remembrance.</p>
+<p>So amongst tags of poetry as Joaquim Miller&rsquo;s lines
+&ldquo;For those who fail,&rdquo; the advertisement for my
+fox-terrier Jack, the &ldquo;condemndest little buffler&rdquo;
+the Texans called him, couched in the choicest of Castilian, and
+setting forth his attributes, colour and name, and offering five
+dollars to any one who would apprehend and take him to the
+Callejon del Espiritu Santo, Mexico, curious and striking
+outsides of match-boxes, one entire series illustrating the
+&ldquo;Promessi Sposi&rdquo;; of scraps, detailing news of Indian
+caciques long since dead, a lottery-ticket of the State of
+Louisiana, passes on &ldquo;busted&rdquo; railways, and the like,
+is this same coffee-coloured card.</p>
+<p>I cannot remember that I was a great dealer at the emporium,
+the glories of which the card sets forth, except for cigarettes
+and &ldquo;Rapadura&rdquo;; that is, raw sugar in a little cake
+done up in maize-leaves, matches, and an occasional glass of
+white Brazilian rum.</p>
+<p>Still during two long months the place stood to me in lieu of
+club, and in it I used to meet occasional German
+&ldquo;Fazenderos,&rdquo; merchants from Surucaba, and officers
+on the march from San Paulo to Rio Grande; and there I used to
+lounge, waiting for customers to buy a &ldquo;Caballada&rdquo; of
+some hundred horses, which a friend and I had <a
+name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span>brought with
+infinite labour from the plains of Uruguay.&nbsp; Thinking upon
+the strange and curious types I used to meet, clad for the most
+part in loose black Turkish trousers, broad-brimmed felt hats
+kept in their place by a tasselled string beneath the chin, in
+real or sham vicu&ntilde;a ponchos, high patent-leather boots,
+sewn in patterns with red thread; upon the horses with silver
+saddles and reins, securely tied to posts outside the door, and
+on the ceaseless rattle of spurs upon the bare brick floors which
+made a sort of obligato accompaniment to the monotonous music of
+the guitar, full twenty years fall back.</p>
+<p>Yet still the flat-roofed town, capital of the district in Rio
+Grande known as Encima de la Sierra, the stopping-place for the
+great droves of mules which from the Banda Oriental and Entre
+Rios are driven to the annual fair at Surucaba; the stodgy
+Brazilian countrymen so different from the Gauchos of the River
+Plate; the negroes at that time slaves; the curious vegetation,
+and the feeling of being cut off from all the world, are fresh as
+yesterday.</p>
+<p>Had but the venture turned out well, no doubt I had forgotten
+it, but to have worked for four long months driving the horses
+all the day through country quite unknown to me, sitting the most
+part of each night upon my horse on guard, or riding slowly round
+and round the herd, eating jerked beef, and sleeping, often wet,
+upon the ground, to <a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+6</span>lose my money, has fixed the whole adventure on my memory
+for life.</p>
+<p>Failure alone is interesting.</p>
+<p>Successful generals with their hands scarce dry from the blood
+of half-armed foes; financiers, politicians; those who rise,
+authors whose works run to a dozen editions in a year: the men
+who go to colonies with or without the indispensable half-crown
+and come back rich, to these we give our greetings in the
+market-place; we make them knights, marking their children with
+the father&rsquo;s bourgeois brand: we marvel at their fortune
+for a brief space, and make them doctors of civil law, exposing
+them during the process to be insulted by our undergraduates,
+then they drop out of recollection and become uninteresting, as
+nature formed their race.</p>
+<p>But those who fail after a glorious fashion, Raleigh,
+Cervantes, Chatterton, Camoens, Blake, Claverhouse, Lovelace,
+Alcibiades, Parnell, and the last unknown deck-hand who, diving
+overboard after a comrade, sinks without saving him: these
+interest us, at least they interest those who, cursed with
+imagination, are thereby doomed themselves to the same failure as
+their heroes were.&nbsp; The world is to the unimaginative, for
+them are honours, titles, rank and ample waistbands; foolish
+phylacteries broad as trade union banners; their own esteem and
+death to sound of Bible leaves fluttered by sorrowing friends,
+with the sure hope of waking <a name="page7"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 7</span>up immortal in a new world on the same
+pattern as the world that they have left.</p>
+<p>After a wretched passage down the coast, we touched at Rio,
+and in the Rua Direita, no doubt now called Rio Primero de Mayo
+or some other revolutionary date, we saw a Rio Grandense soldier
+on a fine black horse.&nbsp; As we were going to the River Plate
+to make our fortunes, my companion asked me what such a horse was
+worth, and where the Brazilian Government got their
+remounts.&nbsp; I knew no horses of the kind were bred nearer
+than Rio Grande, or in Uruguay, and that a horse such as the
+trooper rode, might in the latter country be worth an
+ounce.&nbsp; We learned in Rio that his price was eighty dollars,
+and immediately a golden future rose before our eyes.&nbsp; What
+could be easier than in Uruguay, which I knew well and where I
+had many friends (now almost to a man dead in the revolutions or
+killed by rum), to buy the horses and drive them overland to the
+Brazilian capital?</p>
+<p>We were so confident of the soundness of our scheme that I
+believe we counted every hour till the boat put to sea.</p>
+<p>Not all the glories of the Tijuca with its view across the bay
+straight into fairyland, the red-roofed town, the myriad islets,
+the tall palm-tree avenue of Botafogo, the tropic trees and
+butterflies, and the whole wondrous panorama spread at our feet,
+contented us.</p>
+<p>During the voyage to the River Plate we planned <a
+name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>the thing well
+out, and talked it over with our friends.&nbsp; They, being
+mostly of our age, found it well reasoned, and envied us, they
+being due at banks and counting-houses, and other places where no
+chance like ours of making money, could be found.&nbsp; Arrived
+in Buenos Ayres, a cursed chance called us to Bahia Blanca upon
+business, but though we had a journey of about a thousand miles
+to make through territory just wasted by the Indians and in which
+at almost every house a man or two lay dead, we counted it as
+nothing, for we well knew on our return our fortunes were
+assured.</p>
+<p>And so the autumn days upon the Arroyo de los Huesos seemed
+more glorious than autumn days in general, even in that climate
+perhaps the most exhilarating of the world.&nbsp; Horses went
+better, &ldquo;mat&eacute;&rdquo; was hotter in the mouth, the
+pulperia ca&ntilde;a seemed more tolerable, and the
+&ldquo;China&rdquo; girls looked more desirable than usual, even
+to philosophers who had their fortunes almost as good as
+made.</p>
+<p>Our business in the province of Buenos Ayres done, and by this
+time I have forgotten what it was, we sold our horses, some of
+the best I ever saw in South America, for whatever they would
+fetch, and in a week found ourselves in Durazno, a little town in
+Uruguay, where in the camps surrounding, horses and mules were
+cheap.</p>
+<p>About a league outside the town, and in a wooded elbow of the
+river Yi, lived our friend Don Guillermo.&nbsp; <a
+name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>I myself years
+before had helped to build his house; and in and out of season,
+no matter if I arrived upon a &ldquo;pingo&rdquo; shining with
+silver gear, or on a &ldquo;mancaron&rdquo; with an old saddle
+topped by a ragged sheepskin, I was a welcome guest.</p>
+<p>Ah! Don Guillermo, you and your brother Don Tomas rise also
+through the mist of twenty years.</p>
+<p>Catholics, Scotchmen, and gentlemen, kindly and hospitable,
+bold riders and yet so religious that, though it must have been a
+purgatory to them as horsemen, they used to trudge on foot to
+mass on Sunday, swimming the Yi when it was flooded, with their
+clothes and missals on their heads, may God have pardoned
+you.</p>
+<p>Not that the sins of either of them could have been great, or
+of the kind but that the briefest sojourn in purgatory should not
+have wiped them out.</p>
+<p>To those rare Catholic families in Scotland an old-world
+flavour clings.&nbsp; When Knox and that &ldquo;lewid
+monk,&rdquo; the Regent Murray, all agog for progress and
+so-called purer worship, pestered and bothered Scotland into a
+change of faith, those few who clung to Catholicism seemed to
+become repositories of the traditions of an older world.</p>
+<p>Heaven and hell, no resting-place for the weaker souls
+between, have rendered Scotland a hard place for the ordinary man
+who wants his purgatory, even if by another name.&nbsp; Surely
+our Scottish theologians <a name="page10"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 10</span>had done well, although they heated
+up our hell like a glass furnace, to leave us purgatory; that is
+if &ldquo;Glesca&rdquo; be not purgatory enough even for those
+who, like North Britons, have no doubt on any subject either in
+heaven above, or in the earth below.&nbsp; So to the house of Don
+Guillermo&mdash;even the name has now escaped me, though I see
+it, mud-built and thatched with &ldquo;paja,&rdquo; standing on a
+little sandy hill, surrounded on two sides by wood, on the others
+looking straight out upon the open &ldquo;camp&rdquo;&mdash;hot
+foot we came.&nbsp; Riding upon two strayed horses known as
+&ldquo;ajenos,&rdquo; bought for a dollar each in Durazno, we
+arrived, carrying our scanty property in saddle-bags, rode to the
+door, called out &ldquo;Hail, Mary!&rdquo; after the fashion of
+the country and in deference to the religion of our hosts, which
+was itself of so sincere a caste that every one attempted to
+conform to it, as far as possible, whilst in their house;
+received the answer &ldquo;Without sin conceived&rdquo;; got off,
+and straightway launched into a discussion of our plan.</p>
+<p>Assembled in the house were Wycherley, Harrington and
+Trevelyan, and other commentators, whose names have slipped my
+mind.&nbsp; Some were &ldquo;estancieros,&rdquo; that is cattle
+or sheep farmers; others again were loafers, all mostly men of
+education, with the exception of Newfoundland Jack, a sailor, who
+had left the navy in a hurry, after some peccadillo, but who,
+once in the camp, took a high place amongst men, by his knowledge
+of splicing, <a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+11</span>making turks&rsquo; heads, and generally applying all
+his acquired sea-lore to saddlery, and from a trick he had of
+forcing home his arguments with a short knife, the handle fixed
+on with a raw cow&rsquo;s tail, and which in using he threw from
+hand to hand, and generally succeeded in burying deeply in his
+opponent&rsquo;s chest.&nbsp; Our friends all liked the scheme,
+pronounced it practical and businesslike, and, to show goodwill,
+despatched a boy to town to bring a demijohn of ca&ntilde;a back
+at full speed, instructing him to put it down to our account, not
+to delay upon the way, and to be careful no one stole it at the
+crossing of the Yi.</p>
+<p>Long we sat talking, waiting for the advent of the boy, till
+at last, seeing he would not come that night, and a thick mist
+rising up from the river having warned us that the night was
+wearing on, we spread our saddles on the floor, and went to
+sleep.&nbsp; At daybreak, cold and miserable, the boy appeared,
+bringing the ca&ntilde;a in a demijohn, and to our questions said
+he had passed the river, hit the &ldquo;rincon,&rdquo; and heard
+the dogs bark in the mist; but after trying for an hour could
+never find the house.&nbsp; Then, thinking that his horse might
+know the way, laid down the reins, and the horse took him
+straight to the other horses, who, being startled at the sudden
+apparition of their friend saddled and mounted in the dead of
+night, vanished like spectres into the thickest of the fog.&nbsp;
+Then tired of riding, after an hour or two, took off his saddle,
+<a name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 12</span>and had
+passed the night, as it appeared at daybreak, not a quarter of a
+mile away.</p>
+<p>Between the town and Don Guillermo&rsquo;s house there ran a
+river called the Yi; just at the pass a &ldquo;balsa&rdquo;
+plied, drawn over by stout ropes.&nbsp; On either side the
+&ldquo;pass&rdquo; stood pulperias, that is camp-stores, where
+gin and sardines, Vino Carlon, Yerba, and all the necessaries of
+frontier life could be procured.&nbsp; Horses and cattle, mules
+and troops of sheep passed all the day, and gamblers plied their
+trade, whilst in some huts girls, known as &ldquo;Chinas,&rdquo;
+watched the passers-by, loitering in deshabille before their
+mare&rsquo;s hide doors, singing &ldquo;cielitos,&rdquo; or the
+&ldquo;gato,&rdquo; to the accompaniment of a guitar, or merely
+shouting to the stranger, &ldquo;Che, si quieres cosa buena vente
+por ac&aacute;.&rdquo;&nbsp; A half-Arcadian, half-Corinthian
+place the crossing was; fights there were frequent, and a
+&ldquo;Guapeton,&rdquo; that is, a pretty handler of his knife,
+once kept things lively for a month or two, challenging all the
+passers-by to fight, till luckily a Brazilian, going to the town,
+put things in order with an iron-handled whip.</p>
+<p>The owner of the &ldquo;balsa,&rdquo; one Eduardo Pe&ntilde;a,
+cherished a half-romantic, half-antagonistic friendship for Don
+Guillermo, speaking of him as &ldquo;muy Catolico,&rdquo;
+admiring his fine seat upon a horse, and yet not understanding in
+the least the qualities which made him a man of mark in all the
+&ldquo;pagos&rdquo; from the Porongos to the Arazati.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Catolico,&rdquo; <a name="page13"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 13</span>with Pe&ntilde;a, was but a matter of
+pure faith, and going to mass a work of supererogation; and
+conduct such as the eschewal of the China ladies at the pass,
+with abstinence from all excess in square-faced gin, dislike to
+mont&eacute;, even with &ldquo;Sota en la puerta,&rdquo; and the
+adversary with all his money staked upon another card, seemed to
+him bigotry; for bigotry is after all not so much mere excess of
+faith or want of tolerance, but a neglect to fall into the vices
+of our friends.&nbsp; So, mounted on our two
+&ldquo;agenos,&rdquo; one a jibber, the other a kicker at the
+stirrup, and extremely hard to mount, we scoured the land.&nbsp;
+Gauchos, Brazilians, negroes, troperos, cattle-farmers, each man
+in the whole &ldquo;pago&rdquo; had at least a horse to
+sell.&nbsp; Singly, driven, led, pulled unwillingly along in
+raw-hide ropes, and sitting back like lapdogs walking in the
+park, the horses came.&nbsp; We bought them all after much
+bargaining, and then began to hunt about at farms, estancias, and
+potreros, and to inquire on every side where horses could be
+got.&nbsp; All the &ldquo;dead beats,&rdquo;
+&ldquo;sancochos,&rdquo; buck-jumpers, wall-eyed and
+broken-backed, we passed in a review.&nbsp; An English sailor
+rode up to the place, dressed as a Gaucho, speaking but little
+English, with a west-country twang.&nbsp; He, too, had horses,
+which we bought, and the deal over, launched into the story of
+his life.</p>
+<p>It seemed that he had left a man-of-war some fifteen years
+ago, married a native girl and settled down, and for ten years
+had never met <a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+14</span>an Englishman.&nbsp; In English, still a sailor, but in
+Spanish, a gentleman, courteous and civil, and fit to take his
+place with any one; full of fine compliments, and yet a
+horse-coper; selling us three good horses, and one, that the
+first time I mounted him kicked like a zebra, although our friend
+had warranted him quite free from vice, well bitted, and the one
+horse he had which he reserved in general for the saddle of his
+wife.</p>
+<p>In a few days we had collected sixty or seventy, and to make
+all complete, a man arrived, saying that specially on our
+account, thirteen wild horses, or horses that had run wild, had
+been enclosed.&nbsp; He offered them on special terms, and we,
+saddling at once, rode twelve or thirteen leagues to see them;
+and after crossing a river, wading through a swamp, and winding
+in and out through a thick wood for several miles, we reached his
+house.&nbsp; There, in a strong corral, the horses were,
+wild-eyed and furious, tails sweeping to the ground, manes to
+their knees, sweating with fear, and trembling if any one came
+near.&nbsp; One was a piebald dun, about eight years of age,
+curly all over like a poodle; one Pampa, that is, black with a
+head as if it had been painted white to the ears; behind them,
+coal-black down to his feet, which, curiously enough, were all
+four white.&nbsp; A third, Overo Azulejo, slate-coloured and
+white; he was of special interest, for he had twisted in his mane
+a large iron spur, and underneath a lump as large as an apple,
+where the spur <a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+15</span>had bumped upon his neck for years during his gallop
+through the woods and plains.&nbsp; Each horse had some
+peculiarity, most had been tame at one time, and were therefore
+more to be dreaded than if they had been never mounted in their
+lives.</p>
+<p>As it was late when we arrived we tied our horses up and found
+a ball in progress at the house.&nbsp; Braulio Islas was the
+owner&rsquo;s name, a man of some position in the land, young and
+unmarried, and having passed some years of his life in Monte
+Video, where, as is usual, he had become a doctor either of law
+or medicine; but the life had not allured him, and he had drifted
+back to the country, where he lived, half as a Gaucho, half as a
+&ldquo;Dotorcito,&rdquo; riding a wild horse as he were part of
+him, and yet having a few old books, quoting dog Latin, and in
+the interim studying international law, after the fashion of the
+semi-educated in the River Plate.&nbsp; Fastening our horses to
+long twisted green-hide ropes, we passed into the house.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Carne con cuero&rdquo; (meat cooked with the hide) was
+roasting near the front-door on a great fire of bones.&nbsp;
+Around it men sat drinking mat&eacute;, smoking and talking,
+whilst tame ostriches peered into the fire and snapped up
+anything within their reach; dogs without hair, looking like
+pigs, ran to and fro, horses were tied to every post, fire-flies
+darted about the trees; and, above all, the notes, sung in a high
+falsetto voice of a most lamentable Paraguayan
+&ldquo;triste,&rdquo; quavered in the night air and set the dogs
+a-barking, when all <a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+16</span>the company at stated intervals took up the refrain, and
+chanted hoarsely or shrilly of the hardships passed by Lopez in
+his great camp at Piray&uacute;.</p>
+<p>Under the straw-thatched sheds whole cows and sheep were hung
+up; and every one, when he felt hungry, cut a collop off and
+cooked it in the embers, for in those days meat had no price, and
+if you came up hungry to a house a man would say: &ldquo;There is
+a lazo, and the cattle are feeding in a hollow half a league
+away.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>A harp, two cracked guitars, the strings repaired with strips
+of hide, and an accordion, comprised the band.&nbsp; The girls
+sat in a row, upon rush-seated chairs, and on the walls were
+ranged either great bowls of grease in which wicks floated, or
+homemade candles fixed on to nails, which left them free to
+gutter on the dancers&rsquo; heads.&nbsp; The men lounged at the
+door, booted and spurred, and now and then one walked up to the
+girls, selected one, and silently began to dance a Spanish valse,
+slowly and scarcely moving from the place, the hands stretched
+out in front, and the girl with her head upon his shoulder, eyes
+fast closed and looking like a person in a trance.&nbsp; And as
+they danced the musicians broke into a harsh, wild song, the
+dancers&rsquo; spurs rattled and jingled on the floor, and
+through the unglazed and open windows a shrill fierce neigh
+floated into the room from the wild horses shut in the
+corral.&nbsp; &ldquo;Dulces,&rdquo; that is, those sweetmeats
+made from the yolk of eggs, from almonds, and from <a
+name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 17</span>nuts, and
+flavoured with cinnamon and caraways brought by the Moors to
+Spain, and taken by the Spaniards to the Indies, with sticky
+cakes, and vino seco circulated amongst the female guests.&nbsp;
+The men drank gin, ate bread (a delicacy in the far-off
+&ldquo;camp&rdquo;), or sipped their mat&eacute;, which, in its
+little gourds and silver tube, gave them the appearance of
+smoking some strange kind of pipe.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Que bailen los Ingleses,&rdquo; and we had to acquit
+ourselves as best we could, dancing a &ldquo;pericon,&rdquo; as
+we imagined it, waving our handkerchiefs about to the delight of
+all the lookers-on.&nbsp; Fashion decreed that, the dance over,
+the &ldquo;cavalier&rdquo; presented his handkerchief to the girl
+with whom he danced.&nbsp; I having a bad cold saw with regret my
+new silk handkerchief pass to the hand of a mulatto girl, and
+having asked her for her own as a remembrance of her beauty and
+herself, received a home-made cotton cloth, stiff as a piece of
+leather, and with meshes like a sack.</p>
+<p>Leaving the dance, as Braulio Islas said, as more
+&ldquo;conformable&rdquo; to Gauchos than to serious men we
+started bargaining.&nbsp; After much talking we agreed to take
+the horses for three dollars each, upon condition that in the
+morning Islas and all his men should help us drive a league or
+two upon the road.&nbsp; This settled, and the money duly paid,
+we went to bed, that is, lay down upon our saddles under the
+&ldquo;galpon.&rdquo;&nbsp; To early morning the guitars went on,
+and rising just about day-break we found <a
+name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 18</span>the revellers
+saddling their horses to depart in peace.&nbsp; We learned with
+pleasure there had been no fight, and then after a mat&eacute;
+walked down to the corral.&nbsp; Knowing it was impossible to
+drive the horses singly, after much labour we coupled them in
+twos.&nbsp; I mounted one of them, and to my surprise, he did not
+buck, but after three or four plunges went quietly, and we let
+the others out.&nbsp; The bars were scarcely down when they all
+scattered, and made off into the woods.&nbsp; Luckily all the
+drivers were at hand, and after three or four hours&rsquo; hard
+galloping we got them back, all except one who never reappeared;
+and late in the evening reached Don Guillermo&rsquo;s house and
+let our horses into a paddock fenced with strong posts of
+&ntilde;andubay or Tala and bound together with pieces of raw
+hide.</p>
+<p>So for a week or two we passed our lives, collecting horses of
+every shade and hue, wild, tame and bagualon, that is, neither
+quite wild nor tame, and then, before starting, had to go to
+&ldquo;La Justicia&rdquo; to get a passport with their attributes
+and marks.</p>
+<p>I found the Alcalde, one Quintin Perez, sitting at his door,
+softening a piece of hide by beating on it with a heavy mallet of
+&ntilde;andubay.&nbsp; He could not read, but was so far advanced
+towards culture as to be able to sign his name and
+rubricate.&nbsp; His rubric was most elaborate, and he informed
+me that a signature was good, but that he thought a rubric more
+authentic.&nbsp; Though he could not decipher <a
+name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span>the document
+I brought for signature, he scrutinized the horses&rsquo; marks,
+all neatly painted in the margin, discussed each one of them, and
+found out instantly some were from distant &ldquo;pagos,&rdquo;
+and on this account, before the signature or rubric was appended,
+in addition to the usual fee, I was obliged to &ldquo;speak a
+little English to him,&rdquo; which in the River Plate is used to
+signify the taking and receiving of that conscience money which
+causes the affairs of justice to move pleasantly for all
+concerned.&nbsp; Meanwhile my partner had gone to town (Durazno)
+to arrange about the revision of the passport with the chief
+authorities.&nbsp; Nothing moved quickly at that time in Uruguay;
+so after waiting one or two days in town, without a word, he
+quietly let loose his horse in a by-street at night to save his
+keep, and casting about where he should leave his saddle, thought
+that the cloak-room of the railway-station might be safe, because
+the station-master was an Englishman.&nbsp; The saddle, having
+silver stirrups and good saddle-cloths and silver-mounted reins
+and bit, was worth more than the horse, which, being a stray, he
+had bought for a couple of dollars, and was not anxious to
+retain.</p>
+<p>After a day or two of talk, and &ldquo;speaking
+English,&rdquo; he wanted his saddle, and going to the station
+found it gone.&nbsp; Not being up at that time in the ways of the
+Republic, he informed the police, waited a day, then two days,
+and found nothing done.&nbsp; Luckily, just at that time, I came
+to town <a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+20</span>and asked him if he had offered a reward.&nbsp; Hearing
+he had not, we went down to see the Commissary of Police, and
+found him sitting in his office training two cocks to
+fight.&nbsp; A rustle and the slamming of a door just marked the
+hurried exit of a lady, who must have been assisting at the
+main.&nbsp; Compliments duly passed, cigarettes lighted and
+mat&eacute; circulating, &ldquo;served&rdquo; by a negro soldier
+in a ragged uniform with iron spurs upon his naked feet who stood
+attention every time he passed the gourd in which the mat&eacute;
+is contained to either of us, we plunged into our talk.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ten dollars, Comissario.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, se&ntilde;or, fifteen, and a slight gratification
+to the man who brings the saddle back.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>We settled at thirteen, and then the Commissary winked slowly,
+and saying, &ldquo;This is not Europe,&rdquo; asked for a little
+something for himself, received it, and calling to the negro,
+said&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Tio Gancho, get at once to horse, take with you one or
+two men, and scour the &lsquo;pago&rsquo; till you bring this
+saddle back.&nbsp; See that you find it, or I will have your
+thumbs both broken as your toes are, by San Edovige and by the
+Mother of our Lord.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>A look at Tio Gancho showed both his big toes had been broken
+when a slave in Brazil, either to stop him walking, or, as the
+Commissary thought, to help him to catch the stirrup, for he was
+a noted rider of a redomon. <a name="citation20"></a><a
+href="#footnote20" class="citation">[20]</a></p>
+<p><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 21</span>Duly
+next day the saddle was brought (so said the Commissary) into the
+light of justice, and it then appeared one of the silver stirrups
+had been lost.&nbsp; The Commissary was much annoyed, reproached
+his men, being, as he said he was: &ldquo;Un hombre muy
+honrado.&rdquo;&nbsp; After thinking the case well out, he
+returned me two and a half dollars out of the thirteen I had
+agreed to pay.&nbsp; Honour no doubt was satisfied upon both
+sides, and a new silver stirrup cost ten dollars at the least;
+but as the saddle was well worth sixty, we parted friends.&nbsp;
+That is, we should have parted so had not the &ldquo;Hombre muy
+honrado&rdquo; had another card to play.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How long do you want the thief detained?&rdquo; he
+asked.&nbsp; And we, thinking to be magnanimous and to impress
+him with our liberal ideas, said loftily&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A month will do.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;then I must
+trouble you for thirty dollars more for the man&rsquo;s
+maintenance, and for the gaoler&rsquo;s fee.&rdquo;&nbsp; This
+was a stopper over all, and I said instantly&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Being ignorant of your laws, perhaps we have looked at
+the man&rsquo;s offence too hardly, a week will do.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+So after paying five dollars down, we invited the Commissary to
+drink, and left him well knowing that we should not be out of
+sight before the man would be released, and the five dollars be
+applied strictly towards the up-keep of &ldquo;justice&rdquo; in
+the <a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+22</span>Partido of the Yi.&nbsp; Months afterwards I heard the
+culprit worked two days cutting down weeds with a machete in the
+public square; then, tired of it, being &ldquo;un hombre de
+&aacute; caballo,&rdquo; had volunteered to join the army, was
+received into the ranks, and in a few weeks&rsquo; time rose to
+be sergeant, for he could sign his name.</p>
+<p>All being ready, and some men (one a young Frenchman born in
+the place) being found with difficulty, the usual revolution
+having drained off the able-bodied men, we made all ready for the
+start.&nbsp; We bid good-bye to Don Guillermo, and to Don Tomas,
+giving them as an addition to their library (which consisted of
+some lives of saints and an odd volume of &ldquo;el culto al
+Falo,&rdquo; which was in much request), our only book the
+&ldquo;Feathered Arrow,&rdquo; either by Aimard or by Gerstaeker,
+and mounting early in the morning after some trouble with the
+wilder of our beasts, we took the road.</p>
+<p>For the first few leagues Don Guillermo rode with us, and
+then, after a smoke, bade us goodbye and rode away; his tall,
+lithe figure dressed in loose black merino trousers tucked into
+his boots, hat tied beneath his chin, and Pampa poncho, fading
+out of sight, and by degrees the motion of his right arm touching
+his horse up, Gaucho fashion, at every step, grew slower, then
+stood still, and lastly vanished with the swaying figure of the
+rider, out of sight.&nbsp; Upon what Pampa he now gallops is to
+me unknown, or whether, where he is, <a name="page23"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 23</span>horses accompany him; but I would
+fain believe it, for a heaven on foot would not be heaven to him;
+but I still see him as he disappeared that day swaying to every
+motion of his horse as they had been one flesh.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Adios, Don Guillermo,&rdquo; or perhaps &ldquo;hasta
+luego,&rdquo; you and your brother Don Tomas, your hospitable
+shanty, and your three large cats, &ldquo;Yanish&rdquo; and
+&ldquo;Yanquetruz,&rdquo; with one whose name I cannot now
+recall, are with me often as I think on times gone by; and still
+to-day (if it yet stands), upon the darkest night I could take
+horse outside Durazno, cross the Yi, not by the
+&ldquo;balsa,&rdquo; but at the ford below, and ride without a
+word to any one straight to your house.</p>
+<p>Days followed one another, and nights still caught us upon
+horseback, driving or rounding up our horses, and nothing
+interested us but that &ldquo;el Pangare&rdquo; was lame;
+&ldquo;el Gargantillo&rdquo; looked a little thin, or that
+&ldquo;el Zaino de la hacinda&rdquo; was missing in the morning
+from the troop.&nbsp; Rivers we passed, the Paso de los Toros,
+where the horses grouped together on a little beach of stones
+refused to face the stream.&nbsp; Then sending out a yoke of oxen
+to swim first, we pressed on them, and made them plunge, and kept
+dead silence, whilst a naked man upon the other bank called to
+them and whistled in a minor key; for horses swimming, so the
+Gauchos say, see nothing, and head straight for a voice if it
+calls soothingly.&nbsp; And whilst they swam, men in canoes lay
+down the stream to stop them <a name="page24"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 24</span>drifting, and others swimming by
+their side splashed water in their faces if they tried to
+turn.&nbsp; The sun beat on the waste calling out the scent of
+flowers; kingfishers fluttered on the water&rsquo;s edge, herons
+stood motionless, great vultures circled overhead, and all went
+well till, at the middle of the stream, a favourite grey roan
+mare put up her head and snorted, beat the water with her feet,
+and then sank slowly, standing quite upright as she
+disappeared.</p>
+<p>Mountains and plains we passed, and rivers fringed with thick,
+hard thorny woods; we sweltered in the sun, sat shivering on our
+horses during the watches of the night, slept fitfully by turns
+at the camp fire, ate &ldquo;charqui&rdquo; and drank
+mat&eacute;, and by degrees passing the Paso de los Novillos, San
+Fructuoso, and the foot-hills of Haedo and the Cuchilla de
+Peralta with its twin pulperias, we emerged on to the plain,
+which, broken here and there by rivers, slopes toward the
+southern frontier of Brazil.&nbsp; But as we had been
+short-handed from the first, our &ldquo;caballada&rdquo; had got
+into bad ways.&nbsp; A nothing startled them, and the malign
+example of the group of wildlings brought from Braulio Islas, led
+them astray, and once or twice they separated and gave us hours
+of work to bring them back.&nbsp; Now as a
+&ldquo;caballada&rdquo; which has once bolted is in the future
+easily disposed to run, we gave strict orders no one was to get
+off, though for a moment, without hobbling his horse.</p>
+<p><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>Camped
+one cold morning on a river, not far from Brazil, and huddled
+round a fire, cooking some sausages, flavoured with Chile pepper,
+over a fire of leaves, one of our men who had been on horseback
+watching all the night, drew near the fire, and getting off,
+fastened his reins to a heavy-handled whip, and squatted on them,
+as he tried to warm his hands.&nbsp; My horse, unsaddled, was
+fastened by a lasso to a heavy stone, and luckily my partner and
+the rest all had their horses well secured, for a
+&ldquo;coati&rdquo; dived with a splash after a fish into the
+river.&nbsp; In a moment the horses all took fright, and
+separating, dashed to the open country with heads and tails
+erect, snorting and kicking, and left us looking in despair,
+whilst the horse with the whip fastened to the reins joined them,
+and mine, tied to the stone, plunged furiously, but gave me time
+to catch him, and mounting barebacked, for full five hours we
+rode, and about nightfall brought the &ldquo;caballada&rdquo;
+back to the camp, and driving them into an elbow of the river,
+lighted great fires across the mouth of it, and went to sleep,
+taking it conscientiously in turns to curse the man who let his
+horse escape.</p>
+<p>Five leagues or so upon the road the frontier lay, and here
+the Brazilian Government had guards, but we being business men
+smuggled our horses over in the night, led by a noted smuggler,
+who took us by devious paths, through a thick wood, to a ford
+known to him, only just practicable, and this we <a
+name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 26</span>passed
+swimming and wading, and struggling through the mud.&nbsp; The
+river wound about through beds of reeds, trees known as
+&ldquo;sarandis&rdquo; grew thickly on the banks, and as we
+passed &ldquo;carpinchos&rdquo; <a name="citation26"></a><a
+href="#footnote26" class="citation">[26]</a> snorted; great fish
+leaped into the air and fell with a resounding crash into the
+stream, and in the trees was heard the scream of vultures, as
+frightened by our passage they rose and weltered heavily through
+the thick wood.&nbsp; By morning we were safe into Brazil,
+passing a league or more through a thick cane-brake, where we
+left several of our best horses, as to pursue them when they
+straggled was impossible without running the risk of losing all
+the rest.&nbsp; The crossing of the river had brought us to
+another world.&nbsp; As at Carlisle and Gretna in the old days,
+or as at Tuy and Valenza even to-day, the river had set a barrier
+between the peoples as it had been ten miles instead of a few
+hundred yards in width.&nbsp; Certainly, on the Banda Oriental,
+especially in the department of Tacuaremb&ograve;, many
+Brazilians had emigrated and settled there, but living amongst
+the Gaucho population, in a measure they had been forced to
+conform to the customs of the land.&nbsp; That is, they practised
+hospitality after the Gaucho fashion, taking no money from the
+wayfaring man for a piece of beef; they lent a horse, usually the
+worst they had, if one came to their house with one&rsquo;s horse
+tired; their women showed themselves</p>
+<p><a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+27</span>occasionally; and not being able to hold slaves, they
+were obliged to adopt a different tone to men in general than
+that they practised in the Empire of Brazil.&nbsp; But in the
+time of which I write, in their own country they still carried
+swords, slaves trotted after the rich
+&ldquo;fazendero&rsquo;s&rdquo; horse, the women of the family
+never sat down to table with the men, and if a stranger chanced
+to call on business at their house, they were as jealously kept
+from his eyes as they had all been Turks.</p>
+<p>The &ldquo;Fazenda&rdquo; houses had great iron-studded doors,
+often a moat, and not infrequently a rusty cannon, though
+generally dismounted, and a relic of bygone time.&nbsp; The
+traveller fared, as a general rule, much worse than in the Banda
+Oriental, for save at the large cattle-farms it was impossible to
+buy a piece of meat.&nbsp; Admitted to the house, one rarely
+passed beyond the guest-chamber, a room with four bare
+white-washed walls; having for furniture a narrow hard-wood table
+with wrought-iron supports between its legs; chairs cut
+apparently out of the solid block, and a tin bucket or a large
+gourd in the corner, with drinking-water; so that one&rsquo;s
+sojourn at the place was generally brief, and one&rsquo;s
+departure a relief to all concerned.&nbsp; Still on the frontier
+the Gaucho influence made itself a little felt, and people were
+not so inhospitable as they were further in the interior of the
+land.&nbsp; Two or three leagues beyond the pass there was a
+little town called &ldquo;Don Pedrito,&rdquo; towards which we
+made; <a name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 28</span>but
+a &ldquo;Pampero,&rdquo; whistling from the south, forced us to
+camp upon a stream known as the &ldquo;Poncho Verde,&rdquo;
+where, in the forties, Garibaldi was reported to have fought.</p>
+<p>Wet to the skin and without food, we saw a fazenda not a mile
+away, rode up to it, and for a wonder were asked inside, had
+dinner in the guest-chamber, the owner sitting but not eating
+with us; the black Brazilian beans and bacon carried in pompously
+by three or four stalwart slaves, who puffed and sweated, trod on
+each other&rsquo;s naked toes, and generally behaved as they had
+been carrying sacks of corn aboard a ship, only that in this
+instance no one stood in the gangway with a whip.&nbsp; Much did
+the conversation run on politics; upon &ldquo;A Guerra dos
+Farapos,&rdquo; which it appeared had riven the country in twain
+what time our host was young.&nbsp; Farapo means a rag, and the
+Republicans of fifty years ago in Rio Grande had adopted the
+device after the fashion of &ldquo;Les gueux.&rdquo;&nbsp; Long
+did they fight, and our host said: &ldquo;Praise to God,
+infructuously,&rdquo; for how could men who wore moustaches and
+full beards be compared to those who, like our host himself, wore
+whiskers carefully trimmed in the style of those which at the
+same epoch in our country were the trade-mark of the Iron
+Duke?&nbsp; Elective kings, for so the old
+&ldquo;conservador&rdquo; termed presidents, did not find favour
+in his eyes; and in religion too the &ldquo;farapos&rdquo; were
+seriously astray.&nbsp; They held the doctrine that all <a
+name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>creeds should
+be allowed; which I once held myself, but now incline to the
+belief that a religion and a name should be bestowed at baptism,
+and that it should be constituted heresy of the worst kind, and
+punishable by a fine, to change or palter with either the name or
+the religion which our fathers have bestowed.</p>
+<p>Politics over, we fell a-talking upon other lands; on Europe
+and England, Portugal, and as to whether &ldquo;Rondon&rdquo; was
+larger than Pelotas, or matters of that sort.&nbsp; Then our host
+inquired if in &ldquo;Rondon&rdquo; we did not use &ldquo;la
+bosa,&rdquo; and I not taking the thing up, he rose and
+stretching out his hands, set them revolving like a saw, and I
+then saw our supposed national pastime was what he meant; and
+told him that it was practised, held in repute, and marked us out
+as a people set apart; and that our greatness was largely founded
+on the exercise he had endeavoured to depict.&nbsp; We bade
+farewell, not having seen a woman, even a negress, about the
+place; but as we left, a rustling at the door showed that the
+snuff-and-butter-coloured sex had been observing us after the
+fashion practised in Morocco and in houses in the East.&nbsp; The
+hospitable &ldquo;conservador&rdquo; sent down a slave with a
+great basket full of oranges; and seated at the camp we ate at
+least three dozen, whilst the man waited patiently to take the
+basket back.</p>
+<p>Night caught us in the open &ldquo;camp,&rdquo; a south wind
+blowing, and the drops congealing as they <a
+name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 30</span>fell.&nbsp;
+Three of us muffled in ponchos rode round the horses, whilst the
+others crouched at the fire, and midnight come, the riders rode
+to the fire, and stretched on the wet mud slept fitfully, whilst
+the others took their place.&nbsp; Day came at last; and
+miserable we looked, wet, cold, and hungry, the fire black out,
+matches all damp, and nothing else to do but march till the sun
+rose and made life tolerable.&nbsp; Arrived at a small rancho we
+got off, and found the owner was a Spaniard from Navarre, married
+to a Brazilian woman.&nbsp; In mongrel Portuguese he bade us
+welcome; said he was no Brazilian, and that his house was ours,
+and hearing Spanish brightened up, and said in broken Spanish,
+mixed with Portuguese, that he could never learn that language,
+though he had passed a lifetime in the place.&nbsp; The country
+pleased him, and though he had an orange garden of some three
+acres in extent, though palms, mameyes and bananas grew around
+his door, he mourned for chestnuts, which he remembered in his
+youth, and said he recollected eating them whilst in Navarre, and
+that they were better than all the fruit of all Brazil; thinking,
+like Naaman, that Abana and Pharpar were better than all the
+waters of Israel, or rivers of Damascus; or perhaps moved in some
+mysterious way by the remembrance of the chestnut forests, the
+old grey stone-roofed houses, and the wind whistling through the
+pine woods of some wild valley of Navarre.&nbsp; At the old
+Spaniard&rsquo;s house a difficulty cropped up with our <a
+name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 31</span>men.&nbsp; I
+having told a man to catch a horse which looked a little wild, he
+answered he was not a horse-breaker, and I might ride the beast
+myself.&nbsp; I promptly did so, and asked him if he knew what a
+wild horse was, and if it was not true that horses which could be
+saddled without tying their hind legs were tame, and the rest
+laughing at him, he drew his knife, and running at me, found
+himself looking down the barrel of a pistol which my partner with
+some forethought had produced.&nbsp; This brought things to a
+crisis, and they all left us, with a hundred horses on our
+hands.&nbsp; Several Brazilians having volunteered, we took them,
+bought a tame horse accustomed to carry packs, procured a
+bullock, had it killed, and the meat &ldquo;jerked&rdquo;; and
+making bags out of the hide, filled them with food, for, as the
+Spaniard said, &ldquo;in the country you intend to cross you
+might as well be amongst Moors, for even money will not serve to
+get a piece of beef.&rdquo;&nbsp; A kindly soul the Spaniard, his
+name has long escaped me, still he was interesting as but the
+truly ignorant can ever be.&nbsp; The world to him was a great
+mystery, as it is even to those who know much more than he; but
+all the little landmarks of the narrow boundaries of his life he
+had by heart; and they sufficed him, as the great world itself
+cannot suffice those who, by living in its current, see its
+muddiness.</p>
+<p>So one day told another, and each night found us on horseback
+riding round the drove.&nbsp; Through <a name="page32"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 32</span>forest, over baking plain, up
+mountain paths, through marshes, splashing to the saddle-flaps,
+by lone &ldquo;fazendas,&rdquo; and again through herds of cattle
+dotting the plain for miles, we took our way.&nbsp; Little straw
+huts, each with a horse tied day and night before them, were our
+fairway marks.&nbsp; Day followed night without adventure but
+when a horse suddenly threw its rider and a Brazilian peon
+uncoiled his lasso, and with a jangling of spurs against the
+stirrups, sprang into life, and in a moment the long snaky rope
+flew through the air and settled round the runaway just
+underneath his ears.&nbsp; Once in a clearing, as we plodded on,
+climbing the last barrier of the mountain range, to emerge upon
+the district called &ldquo;Encima de la Sierra,&rdquo; a deer
+appeared jumping into the air, and coming down again on the same
+spot repeatedly, the Brazilians said that it was fighting with a
+snake, for &ldquo;God has given such instinct to those beasts
+that they attack and kill all snakes, knowing that they are
+enemies of man.&rdquo; <a name="citation32"></a><a
+href="#footnote32" class="citation">[32]</a>&nbsp; A scheme of
+the creation which, if held in its entirety, shows curious
+lacun&aelig; in the Creator&rsquo;s mind, only to be bridged over
+by that faith which in itself makes all men equal, that is, of
+course, when they experience it and recognize its charm.&nbsp; So
+on a day we crossed the hills, rode through a wood, and came out
+on a plain at the far end of which a little town appeared.</p>
+<p><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>For
+about ten leagues in circumference the plain stretched out,
+walled in with woods, which here and there jutted out into it,
+forming islands and peninsulas.&nbsp; The flat-roofed town
+straggled along three flat and sandy streets; the little plaza,
+planted with mameyes and paraiso trees, served as a
+lounging-place by day, by night a caravanserai for negroes; in
+time of rain the streets were turned to streams, and poured their
+water into the plaza, which became a lake.&nbsp; At the west
+corner of the square was situated Cardozo&rsquo;s store, the
+chief emporium, mart, and meeting-place (after the barber&rsquo;s
+and the chemist&rsquo;s) of the whole town.&nbsp; Two languid and
+yellow, hermaphroditic young Brazilians dressed in alpaca coats,
+white trousers, and patent leather boots dispensed the wares,
+whilst negroes ran about rolling in casks of flour, hogsheads of
+sugar, and bales of black tobacco from Bahia, or from
+Maranh&atilde;o.&nbsp; Such exterior graces did the little town
+of the High Cross exhibit to us, wearied with the baking days and
+freezing nights of the last month&rsquo;s campaign.&nbsp; Whether
+some Jesuit in the days gone by, when missionaries stood up
+before their catechumens unsustained by Gatling guns, sheltered
+but by a rude cross in their hands and their meek lives, had
+named the place, in commemoration of some saving act of grace
+done by Jehovah in the conversion of the heathen, none can
+tell.&nbsp; It may be that the Rood set up on high was but a
+landmark, or again to mark a <a name="page34"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 34</span>frontier line against the heathen to
+the north, or yet it may have been the grave of some Paulista,
+who in his foray against the Jesuits in Paraguay died here on his
+return, whilst driving on before him a herd of converts to become
+slaves in far San Paulo, to the greater glory of the Lord.&nbsp;
+All these things may have been, or none of them; but the quiet
+sleepy place, the forests with their parrots and macaws, their
+herds of peccaries, their bands of screaming monkeys, the
+bright-striped tiger-cats, the armadillos, coatis,
+capibar&aacute;s, and gorgeous flaming &ldquo;seibos,&rdquo; all
+intertwined by ropes of living cordage of lianas, and the supreme
+content of all the dwellers in the district, with God,
+themselves, their country, and their lives, still after twenty
+years is fresh, and stirs me, as the memory of the Pacific stirs
+a reclaimed &ldquo;beach-comber&rdquo; over his grog, and makes
+him say, &ldquo;I never should have left them islands, for a man
+was happy in &rsquo;em, living on the beach.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>To this commercial centre (centro do commercio) we were
+advised to go, and there I rode, leaving my partner with the
+peons riding round the caballada upon the plains.&nbsp; Dressed
+as I was in the clothes worn by the Gauchos of the Banda
+Oriental, a hat tied underneath the chin with a black cord, a
+vicu&ntilde;a poncho, and armed with large resounding silver
+spurs, I made a blot of colour in Cardozo&rsquo;s shop amongst
+the quietly dressed Brazilians, who, though they were some of the
+<a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 35</span>smartest
+men in South America upon a horse, were always clad in
+sober-coloured raiment, wore ordinary store-cut trousers, and had
+their feet endued with all the graces of a five-dollar
+elastic-sided boot.</p>
+<p>Half-an-hour&rsquo;s talk with the chief partner shattered all
+our plans.&nbsp; It then appeared that to take horses on to Rio
+was impossible, the country, after San Paulo, being one dense
+forest, and even if the horses stood the change of climate, the
+trip would take a year, thus running off with any profit which we
+might expect.&nbsp; Moreover, it appeared that mules were in
+demand throughout Brazil, but horses, till past San Paulo, five
+hundred miles ahead, but little valued, and almost as cheap,
+though much inferior in breed to those bred on the plains of
+Uruguay.&nbsp; He further told us to lose not a day in teaching
+all the horses to eat salt, for without that they would not live
+a month, as once the range of mountains passed between Cruz Alta
+and the plains, no horse or mule could live without its three
+months&rsquo; ration of rock-salt; there being in the pasture
+some malign quality which salt alone could cure.&nbsp; Naturally
+he had the cheapest salt in the whole town, and as our horses
+were by this time so thin that it was quite impossible to take
+them further without rest, they having been a month upon the
+road, we set about to find an enclosed pasture where we could let
+them feed.</p>
+<p><a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>Xavier
+Fernandez, a retired slave- and mule-dealer, was the man on whom
+by accident we fell.&nbsp; Riding about the plain disconsolately,
+like Arabs changing their pastures, and with our horses feeding
+near a little pond, we met him.&nbsp; An old straw hat,
+bed-ticking trousers, and with his naked feet shoved into
+slippers of carpindo leather, and an iron spur attached to one of
+them and hanging down at least an inch below his heel, mounted
+upon a mule saddled with the iron-framed Brazilian saddle, with
+the addition of a crupper, a thing strange to our eyes,
+accustomed to the wild horses of the plains, he did not look the
+type of &ldquo;landed gentleman,&rdquo; but such he was, owner of
+flocks and herds, and, in particular, of a well-fenced pasture,
+enclosing about two leagues of land.</p>
+<p>After much talk of things in general, of politics, and of the
+revolution in progress in the republic we had left, upon our
+folly in bringing horses, which could go no further into the
+interior, and of the money we should have made had we brought
+&ldquo;bestas,&rdquo; that is, mules, we agreed to pay him so
+much a month for the use of his fenced pasture, and for our
+maintenance during the time we stayed.&nbsp; Leaving the horses
+feeding, watched by the men, we rode to see the place.&nbsp; Upon
+the way Xavier imparted much of history, a good deal of his lore,
+and curious local information about Cruz Alta, duly distorted, as
+befits a reputable man, through the <a name="page37"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 37</span>perspective of his predilections,
+politics, faith, opinions, and general view of life.</p>
+<p>We learned that once Cruz Alta was a most important place,
+that six-and-thirty thousand mules used to be wintered there, and
+then in spring moved on to the great fair at Surucuba in the
+Sert&atilde;o, that is the forest district of San Paulo, and then
+sold to the merchants from the upper districts of Brazil.&nbsp;
+But of late years the number had been much reduced, and then
+stood at about twelve thousand.&nbsp; This he set down to the
+accursed steamboats which took them up the coast, to the
+continual fighting in the state of Uruguay, and generally to the
+degeneration which he thought he saw in man.&nbsp; In the heyday
+of the prosperity of the place &ldquo;gold flowed from every
+hand,&rdquo; so much so, that even &ldquo;as mulheres da
+vida&rdquo; kept their accounts in ounces; but now money was
+scarce, and business done in general by barter, coin being hardly
+even seen except for mules, for which it was imperative, as no
+one parted with &ldquo;bestas&rdquo; except for money down.&nbsp;
+Passing a little wood we saw a row of stakes driven into the
+ground, and he informed us that they were evidently left by some
+Birivas, that is people from San Paulo, after having used them to
+secure their mules whilst saddling.&nbsp; The Paulistas, we then
+learned, used the &ldquo;sirigote,&rdquo; that is, the
+old-fashioned high-peaked saddle brought from Portugal in times
+gone by, and not the &ldquo;recado,&rdquo; the saddle of the
+Gauchos, which is flat, and suited <a name="page38"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 38</span>better for galloping upon a plain
+than for long marches over mountain passes and through
+woods.&nbsp; All the points, qualities, with the shortcomings and
+the failings of a mule, he did rehearse.&nbsp; It then appeared a
+mule should be mouse-coloured, for the red-coloured mule is of no
+use, the grey soft-footed, and the black bad-tempered, the
+piebald fit &ldquo;for a German,&rdquo; which kind of folk he
+held in abhorrence mixed with contempt, saying they whined in
+speaking as it had been the whining of an armadillo or a
+sloth.&nbsp; The perfect mule should be large-headed, not with a
+little-hammer head like to a horse, but long and thin, with ears
+erect, round feet, and upon no account when spurred ought it to
+whisk its tail, for that was most unseemly, fit but for Germans,
+Negroes, Indians, and generally for all those he counted
+senseless people&mdash;&ldquo;gente sem raz&atilde;o&rdquo;;
+saying &ldquo;of course all men are of one flesh, but some are
+dog&rsquo;s flesh, and let them ride mules who whisk about their
+tails like cattle in a marsh.&rdquo;&nbsp; Beguiled by these, and
+other stories, we soon reached the gate of the enclosure, and he,
+dismounting, drew a key from one of the pockets of his belt and
+let us in.&nbsp; A short half-hour brought us up to his house,
+passing through ground all overgrown with miamia and other shrubs
+which did not promise to afford much pasturage; but he informed
+us that we must not expect the grasses of the plains up at Cruz
+Alta, and thus conversing we arrived before his house.</p>
+<p><a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+39</span>Surrounded by a fence enclosing about an acre, the house
+stood just on the edge of a thick wood.&nbsp; On one side were
+the corrals for horses and for cattle, and on the other the
+quarters of the slaves.&nbsp; In shape the houses resembled a
+flattish haystack thatched with reeds, and with a verandah rising
+round it, supported on strong posts.&nbsp; At either end a kind
+of baldachino, one used as a stable and the other as a kitchen,
+and in the latter a fire continually alight, and squatted by it
+night and day a negress, either baking flat, thin girdle-cakes
+made of maize, shaking the flour out of her hand upon an iron
+plate, or else filling a gourd of mat&eacute; with hot water, and
+running to and fro into the house to give it to her mistress,
+never apparently thinking it worth while to take the kettle with
+her into the house.</p>
+<p>The family, not quite so white as Xavier himself, consisted of
+a mother always in slippers, dressed in a skirt and shift, which
+latter garment always seemed about to fall down to her waist, and
+two thin, large-eyed, yellowish girls arrayed in vestments like a
+pillow-case, with a string fastening them at the narrowest
+place.&nbsp; Slave girls of several hues did nothing and
+chattered volubly, and their mistress had to stand over them, a
+slipper in her hand, when maize was pounded in a rough mortar
+hewn from a solid log, in which the slaves hammered with pestles,
+one down, the other up, after the fashion of blacksmiths making a
+horsehoe, but with <a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+40</span>groans, and making believe to be extenuated after three
+minutes&rsquo; work, and stopping instantly the moment that their
+mistress went into the house to light her cigarette.</p>
+<p>An official in Cruz Alta, known as the Capit&atilde;o do
+Matto, holding a status between a gamekeeper and a parish clerk,
+kept by the virtue of his office a whipping-house, to which
+recalcitrant or idle slaves were theoretically sent; but in the
+house of Xavier at least no one took interest enough in anything,
+except Xavier himself, to take the trouble; and the slaves ruled
+the female part of the establishment, if not exactly with a rod
+of iron, still to their perfect satisfaction, cooking and sewing
+now and then; sweeping, but fitfully; and washing when they
+wanted to look smart and figure at a dance.&nbsp; The
+Capit&atilde;o do Matto was supposed to bring back runaways and
+keep a leash of bloodhounds, but in the memory of man no one had
+seen him sally forth, and for the blood-hounds, they were long
+dead, although he drew regular rations for their
+maintenance.&nbsp; In the interior of Brazil his office was no
+sinecure, but in Cruz Alta horses were plentiful, the country
+relatively easy, and slaves who ran away, which happened seldom,
+timed their escape so as to put a good day&rsquo;s journey
+between them and any possible pursuit, and on the evening of the
+fifth day, if all went well, they got across the frontier into
+Uruguay.</p>
+<p>Terms once arranged, we let our horses loose, <a
+name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>laid out
+rock-salt in lumps, first catching several of the tamest horses,
+and forcing pieces into their mouths; they taught the others, and
+we had nothing more to do.&nbsp; We paid our peons off, got our
+clothes washed, rested, and then found time at first hang heavy
+on our hands.&nbsp; Hearing an Englishman lived about ten leagues
+off, we saddled up and rode to visit him.&nbsp; After losing
+ourselves in a thick forest of some kind of pine, we reached his
+house, but the <i>soi-disant</i> Briton was from Amsterdam, could
+speak no English, was a little drunk, but asked us to get off and
+dine with him.&nbsp; During the dinner, which we had all alone,
+his wife and daughter standing looking at us (he too drunk to
+eat), pigs ran into the room, a half-grown tapir lay in a corner,
+and two new-caught macaws screamed horribly, so that, the banquet
+over, we did not stay, but thanked him in Portuguese, which he
+spoke badly, and rode off home, determining to sleep at the first
+wood, rather than face a night in such a place.</p>
+<p>The evening caught us near to a forest, the trail, sandy and
+white, running close to a sort of cove formed in the trees, and
+here we camped, taking our saddles off, lighting a fire, and
+lying down to sleep just in the opening of the cove, our horses
+tied inside.&nbsp; All through the night people appeared to pass
+along the road.&nbsp; I lay awake half-dozing now and then, and
+watched the bats, looked at the fire-flies flitting about the
+trees, heard the <a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+42</span>harsh howling of the monkeys, the tapirs stamp, the
+splash made by the lobos and carpinchos as they dashed into the
+stream, and then slept soundly, and awoke to find one of the
+horses gone.&nbsp; The moon shone brightly, and, waking up my
+friend, I told him of our loss.&nbsp; We knew the horse must have
+a rope attached to him, and that he probably would try to get
+back to Cruz Alta, along the road we came.&nbsp; My horse was
+difficult to bit, but by the aid of tying up one foot, and
+covering his eyes up with a handkerchief, we bitted him, then
+mounted both of us upon his back, hiding the other saddle behind
+some grass, and started on the road.&nbsp; The sandy trail was
+full of horses&rsquo; tracks, so that we could do nothing but
+ride on, hoping to catch him feeding by the way.&nbsp; About a
+league we rode, and then, not seeing him, turned slowly back to
+get the other saddle, make some coffee, and start home when it
+was light.&nbsp; To our astonishment, upon arriving at the cove,
+the other horse was there, and neighing wildly, straining on his
+rope, and it appeared that he had never gone, but being tied
+close to the wood had wandered in, and we, thinking he must have
+gone, being half-dazed with sleep, had never thought of looking
+at his rope.</p>
+<p>Defrauded, so to speak, out of our Englishman, and finding
+that the horses, after the long journey and the change of water
+and of grass, daily grew thinner, making it quite impossible to
+move them, forwards or back, and after having vainly tried to <a
+name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span>sell them,
+change them for mules, or sugar, quite without success, no one
+except some &ldquo;fazendero&rdquo; here and there caring for
+horses in a land where every one rode mules, we settled down to
+loaf.&nbsp; Once certain we had lost our money and our pains,
+nothing remained but to wait patiently until the horses got into
+sufficient state to sell, for all assured us that every day we
+went further into the interior, they would lose flesh, that we
+should have them bitten by snakes in the forests, and arrive at
+Rio, if we ever got there, either on foot, or with but the horses
+which we rode.</p>
+<p>For a short time we had almost determined to push on, even if
+we arrived at Rio with but a horse apiece.&nbsp; Then came
+reflection, that reflection which has dressed the world in drab,
+made cowards of so many heroes, lost so many generous impulses,
+spoiled so many poems, and which mankind has therefore made a god
+of, and we decided to remain.&nbsp; Then did Cruz Alta put on a
+new look.&nbsp; We saw the wondrous vegetation of the woods, felt
+the full charm of the old-world quiet life, watched the strange
+multi-coloured insects, lay by the streams to mark the birds,
+listened for the howlings of the monkeys when night fell; picked
+the strange flowers, admired the butterflies floating like little
+blue and yellow albatrosses, their wings opened and poised in the
+still air, or wondered when a topaz-coloured humming-bird, a red
+macaw, an orange-and-black toucan, or a red-crested cardinal
+flitted across our path.&nbsp; <a name="page44"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 44</span>Inside the wood behind the house were
+clearings, made partly by the axe and partly by fire, amongst the
+tall morosimos, coronillos, and palo santos, and in the clearings
+known as &ldquo;ro&ccedil;as&rdquo; grew beans and maize, with
+mandioca and occasionally barley, and round them ran a prickly
+hedge either of cactuses or thorny bush, cut down to keep out
+tapirs and deer, and usually in a straw hut a negro lay, armed
+with a flint-lock gun to fire at parrots, scare off monkeys, and
+generally to act as guardian of the place.&nbsp; Orange and lemon
+trees, with citrons and sweet limes, grew plentifully, and had
+run wild amongst the woods; bananas were planted in the
+ro&ccedil;a; but what we liked the best was a wild fruit called
+Guavirami, which grew in patches on the open camp, yellow and
+round, about the size of a small plum, low-growing, having three
+or four small stones, cold as an icicle to taste upon the hottest
+day.&nbsp; A little river ran through the middle of the wood, and
+in a stream a curious machine was placed for pounding maize,
+driven by water-power, and unlike any contrivance of a similar
+nature I had ever seen before.&nbsp; An upright block of wood,
+burned from the centre of a tree, stood in the stream, hollowed
+out in the centre to contain the maize; water ran up a little
+channel, and released a pestle, which fell with a heavy thud upon
+the corn, with the result that if one left a basket full in the
+great mortar over-night, by morning it was pounded, saving that
+labour which God Himself seems to have thought not so <a
+name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>ennobling
+after all, as He first instituted it to carry out a curse.</p>
+<p>So one day told, and may, for all I know, have certified
+another, but we recked little of them, riding into Cruz Alta now
+and then and eating cakes at the confectioner&rsquo;s, drinking
+innumerable glasses of sweet Malaga, laying in stores of
+cigarettes, frequenting all the dances far and near, joining in
+cattle-markings, races, and anything in short which happened in
+the place.</p>
+<p>Perhaps our greatest friend was one Luis, a slave, born in
+Angola, brought over quite &ldquo;Bozal&rdquo; (or muzzled, as
+the Brazilians say of negroes who can speak no Portuguese), then
+by degrees became &ldquo;ladino,&rdquo; was baptized, bought by
+our host Xavier, and had remained with him all the remainder of
+his life.&nbsp; Black, and not comely in the least, bowlegged
+from constant riding, nose flat, and ears like flappers, a row of
+teeth almost as strong as a young shark&rsquo;s, flat feet, and
+crisp Angola wool which grew so thickly on his head that had you
+thrown a pin on it, it could not have reached the skin, he yet
+was honest and faithful to the verge of folly; but then, if
+heaven there be, it can be but inhabited by fools, for wise men,
+prudent folk, and those who thrive, have their reward like
+singers, quickly, and can look for nothing more.&nbsp; He spoke
+about himself half-pityingly under the style of &ldquo;Luis o
+Captivo,&rdquo; was pious, fervent in sacred song, instant in
+prayer (especially if work was to be done), not <a
+name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>idle either,
+superstitious and affectionate with all the virtues of the most
+excellent Saint Bernard or Newfoundland dog, and with but little
+of the imperfections of a man except the power of speech.&nbsp;
+Often he had been with his master into Uruguay to purchase
+cattle, or to buy mules for the Brazilian market, and when I
+asked him if he did not know that he was free the instant that he
+stepped in Uruguay, said: &ldquo;Yes, but here I was brought up
+when I first came from Africa; they have been kind to me, it is
+to me as the querencia <a name="citation46"></a><a
+href="#footnote46" class="citation">[46]</a> is to a horse, and
+were it not for that, small fear I should return, to remain here
+&lsquo;feito captivo&rsquo;; but then I love the place, and, as
+you know, &lsquo;the mangy calf lived all the winter, and then
+died in the spring.&rsquo;&rdquo;&nbsp; He held the Christian
+faith in its entirety, doubting no dogma, being pleased with
+every saint, but yet still hankered after fetish, which he
+remembered as a child, and seemed to think not incompatible with
+Christianity, as rendering it more animistic and familiar,
+smoothing away its angularities, blotting whatever share of
+reason it may have away, and, above all, giving more scope, if
+possible, to faith, and thereby opening a larger field of
+possibilities to the believer&rsquo;s mind.</p>
+<p>So Luis with others of his kind, as Jango, Jico, and Manduco,
+became our friends, looking upon us with that respect mixed with
+contempt which is the attitude of those who see that you possess
+the <a name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+47</span>mysterious arts of reading and of writing, but cannot
+see a horse&rsquo;s footprint on hard ground; or if you lose
+yourself, have to avail yourself of what Luis referred to as
+&ldquo;the one-handed watch the sailors use, which points the way
+to go.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Much did Xavier talk of the Indians of the woods, the
+&ldquo;Bugres,&rdquo; as the Brazilians call them; about the
+&ldquo;Botocudos,&rdquo; who wear a plug stuck in their lower
+lip, and shape their ears with heavy weights in youth, so that
+they hang upon their shoulders; and much about those
+&ldquo;Infidel&rdquo; who through a blowpipe direct a little
+arrow at the travelling &ldquo;Christians&rdquo; in the woods,
+whose smallest touch is death.&nbsp; It then appeared his father
+(fica agora na gloria) was a patriot, that is, &rsquo;twas he who
+extirpated the last of all the &ldquo;Infidel&rdquo; from the
+forests where they lived.&nbsp; Most graphically did he tell how
+the last Indians were hunted down with dogs, and in a pantomime
+he showed how they jumped up and fell when they received the
+shot, and putting out his tongue and writhing hideously, he
+imitated how they wriggled on the ground, explaining that they
+were worse to kill than is a tapir, and put his father and the
+other patriots to much unnecessary pain.&nbsp; And as he talked,
+the woods, the fields, the river and the plain bathed in the sun,
+which unlike that of Africa does not seem weary of its task, but
+shines unwearied, looking as it does on a new world and life,
+shimmered and blazed, great lizards drank its rays flattening <a
+name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 48</span>themselves
+upon the stones in ecstasy, humming-birds quivered at the heart
+of every flower; above the stream the dragon-flies hung poised;
+only some &ldquo;Infidel&rdquo; whom the patriots had destroyed
+seemed wanting, and the landscape looked incomplete without a
+knot of them in their high feather crowns stealthily stealing
+round a corner of the woods.</p>
+<p>In the uncomprehended future, incomprehensible and strange,
+and harder far to guess at than the remotest semi-comprehended
+past, surely the Spanish travellers and their writings will have
+a value quite apart from that of any other books.&nbsp; For then
+the world will hold no &ldquo;Bugres&rdquo;; not a
+&ldquo;Botocudo&rdquo; will be left, and those few Indian and
+Negro tribes who yet persist will be but mere travesties of the
+whites: their customs lost, their lore, such as it was, despised;
+and we have proved ourselves wiser than the Creator, who wasted
+so much time creating beings whom we judged unfit to live, and
+then, in mercy to ourselves and Him, destroyed, so that no
+evidence of His miscalculated plan should last to shame Him when
+He thought of His mistake.&nbsp; So to this end (unknowingly) the
+missionary works, and all the Jesuits, those who from Paraguay
+through the Chiquitos, and across the Uruguay, in the dark Moxos,
+and in the forests of the Andes, gave their lives to bring as
+they thought life everlasting to the Indians&mdash;all were
+fools.&nbsp; Better by far instead of Bibles, lives of saints,
+water of <a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+49</span>baptism, crucifixes, and all the tackle of their trade,
+that they had brought swords, lances, and a good cross-bow each,
+and gone to work in the true scientific way, and recognized that
+the right way with savages is to preach heaven to them and then
+despatch them to it, for it is barbarous to keep them standing
+waiting as it were, just at the portals of eternal bliss.</p>
+<p>And as we lingered at Cruz Alta, Christmas drew near, and all
+the people began to make &ldquo;pesebres,&rdquo; with ox and ass,
+the three wise men, the star of Bethlehem, the Redeemer (not of
+the Botocudos and the Bugres) swaddled and laid in straw.&nbsp;
+Herdsmen and negroes dismounted at the door, fastened their
+half-wild mules or horses carefully to posts, removed their hats,
+drawing them down over their faces furtively, and then walked in
+on tiptoe, their heavy iron spurs clanking upon the ground, to
+see the Wondrous Child.&nbsp; They lounged about the room,
+speaking in whispers as he might awake, and then departed
+silently, murmuring that it was &ldquo;fermosisimo,&rdquo; and
+getting on their horses noiselessly were gone, and in a minute
+disappeared upon the plain.&nbsp; Then came the Novena with
+prayer and carols, the prayers read by Xavier himself out of a
+tattered book, all the assembled family joining with unction in
+the responses, and beating on their breasts.&nbsp; Luis and all
+the slaves joined in the carols lustily, especially in one sung
+in a minor key long-drawn-out as a <a name="page50"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 50</span>sailor&rsquo;s shanty, or a
+forebitter sung in a calm whilst waiting for a breeze.&nbsp;
+After each verse there was a kind of chorus calling upon the
+sinner to repent, bidding him have no fear but still hold on, and
+thus exhorting him&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><p>&ldquo;Chegai, Chegai, pecador, &aacute;o pe da
+cruz<br />
+Fica nosso Senhor.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Christmas Day found us all at mass in the little church,
+horses and mules being tied outside the door to the trees in the
+plaza, and some left hobbled, and all waiting as if St. Hubert
+was about to issue forth and bless them.</p>
+<p>Painfully and long, the preacher dwelt upon the glorious day,
+the country people listening as it were new to them, and as if
+all the events had happened on the plain hard by.&nbsp; In the
+evening rockets announced the joyful news, and the stars shone
+out over the woods and plains as on the evening when the bright
+particular star guided the three sheikhs to some such place as
+was the rancho of our host.</p>
+<p>Christmas rejoicings over, a month sped past and found us
+still, so to speak, wind-bound in the little town.&nbsp; No one
+would buy our horses, some of which died bitten by snakes.&nbsp;
+It was impossible to think of going on, and to return equally
+difficult, so that there seemed a probability of being obliged to
+pass a lifetime in the place.&nbsp; People began to look at us
+half in a kindly, half <a name="page51"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 51</span>contemptuous way, as people look in
+general upon those who fail, especially when they themselves have
+never tried to do anything at all but live, and having done it
+with considerable success look upon failure as a sort of minor
+crime, to be atoned for by humility, and to be reprobated after
+the fashion of adultery, with a half-deprecating laugh.&nbsp;
+Sometimes we borrowed ancient flint-lock guns and lay in wait for
+tapirs, but never saw them, as in the thick woods they move as
+silently as moles in sand, and leave as little trace.&nbsp; Luis
+told of how, mounted on a half-wild horse, he had long ago
+lassoed a tapir, and found himself and horse dragged slowly and
+invincibly towards a stream, the horse resisting terrified, the
+&ldquo;gran besta&rdquo; <a name="citation51"></a><a
+href="#footnote51" class="citation">[51]</a> apparently quite
+cool, so that at last he had to cut his lasso and escape from
+what he called the greatest peril of his life; he thought he was
+preserved partly by the interposition of the saints and partly by
+a &ldquo;feti&ccedil;o&rdquo; which, in defiance of religion, he
+luckily had hanging round his neck.</p>
+<p>Just when all hope was gone, and we thought seriously of
+leaving the horses to their fate, and pushing on with some of the
+best of them towards Rio, a man appeared upon the scene, and
+offered to buy them, half for money and half &ldquo;a
+troco,&rdquo; that is barter, for it appeared he was a pawnbroker
+and had a house full of silver horse-gear, which <a
+name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 52</span>had never
+been redeemed.&nbsp; After much bargaining we closed for three
+hundred dollars and a lot of silver bridles, spurs, whips, and
+other stuff, after reserving four of the best horses for
+ourselves to make our journey back.&nbsp; At the head of so much
+capital our spirits rose, and we determined to push on to
+Paraguay, crossing the Uruguay and Parana, ride through the
+Misiones, and at Asuncion, where I had friends, take ship;
+<i>aguas abajo</i>, for the River Plate.&nbsp; We paid our debts
+and bid good-bye to Xavier, his wife and sallow daughters, and to
+all the slaves; gave Luis a silver-mounted whip, bought some
+provisions, put on our silver spurs, bridles, and as much as
+possible of the silver gear we had become possessed of, and at
+daybreak, mounted upon a cream-and-white piebald, the &ldquo;Bayo
+Overo,&rdquo; and a red bay known as the &ldquo;Pateador,&rdquo;
+leading a horse apiece, we passed out of Xavier&rsquo;s
+&ldquo;potrero,&rdquo; <a name="citation52"></a><a
+href="#footnote52" class="citation">[52]</a> and started on the
+road.</p>
+<p>During the last few days at Xavier&rsquo;s we had taught the
+horses we intended to take to Paraguay to eat Indian corn,
+fastening them up without any other food all day, and putting
+salt into their mouths.&nbsp; The art once learnt, we had to
+stand beside them whilst they ate, to keep off chickens and pigs
+who drove them from their food, the horses being too stupid to
+help themselves.&nbsp; If I remember rightly, their ration was
+eight cobs, which we husked for them in our hands, blistering <a
+name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>our fingers
+in the process as they had been burned.&nbsp; But now the trouble
+of the process was repaid, the horses going strongly all day
+long.&nbsp; We passed out of the little plain, skirted a
+pine-wood, rode up a little hill, and saw the country stretching
+towards the Uruguay, a park-like prairie interspersed with
+trees.&nbsp; Cruz Alta, a white patch shining against the
+green-grey plain encircled with its woods, was just in sight, the
+church-tower standing like a needle in the clear air against the
+sky.&nbsp; Half a league more and it dropped out of view, closing
+the door upon a sort of half B&oelig;otian Arcady, but remaining
+still a memory after twenty years, with all the little incidents
+of the three months&rsquo; sojourn in the place fresh, and yet
+seeming as they had happened not to myself, but to a person I had
+met, and who had told the tale.</p>
+<p>By easy stages we journeyed on, descending gradually towards
+the Uruguay, passing through country almost unpopulated, so large
+were the &ldquo;fazendas,&rdquo; and so little stocked.&nbsp; In
+the last century the Jesuits had here collected many tribes of
+Indians, and their history, is it not told in the pages of
+Montoya Lozano, Padre Guevara, and the other chroniclers of the
+doings of the &ldquo;Company,&rdquo; and to be read in the
+Archivo de Simancas, in that of Seville, and the uncatalogued
+&ldquo;legajos&rdquo; of the national library at Madrid?&nbsp;
+Throughout the country that we passed through, the fierce
+Paulistas had raided in times gone by, carrying off the <a
+name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 54</span>Christian
+Indians to be slaves.&nbsp; The Portuguese and Spaniards had
+often fought&mdash;witness the names &ldquo;O matto <a
+name="citation54a"></a><a href="#footnote54a"
+class="citation">[54a]</a> Portogues, O matto Castelhano,&rdquo;
+and the like, showing where armies had manoeuvred, whilst the
+poor Indians waited like sheep, rejoicing when the butchers
+turned the knife at one another&rsquo;s throats.&nbsp; To-day all
+trace of Jesuits and Missions have long disappeared, save for a
+ruined church or two, and here and there a grassy mound called in
+the language of the country a &ldquo;tapera,&rdquo; <a
+name="citation54b"></a><a href="#footnote54b"
+class="citation">[54b]</a> showing where a settlement had
+stood.</p>
+<p>We camped at lonely ranchos inhabited, in general, by free
+negroes, or by the side of woods, choosing, if possible, some
+little cove in the wood, in which we tied the horses, building a
+fire in the mouth, laid down and slept, after concocting a vile
+beverage bought in Cruz Alta under the name of tea, but made I
+think of birch-leaves, and moistening pieces of the hard jerked
+beef in orange-juice to make it palatable.</p>
+<p>So after five or six days of steady travelling, meeting, if I
+remember rightly, not a living soul upon the way, except a Gaucho
+from the Banda Oriental, who one night came to our fire, and
+seeing the horrible brew of tea in a tin-pot asked <a
+name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 55</span>for a little
+of the &ldquo;black water,&rdquo; not knowing what it was, we
+reached the Uruguay.&nbsp; The river, nearly half-a-mile in
+breadth, flowed sluggishly between primeval woods, great
+alligators basked with their backs awash, flamingoes fished among
+the shallow pools, herons and cranes sat on dead stumps, vultures
+innumerable perched on trees, and in the purple bunches of the
+&ldquo;seibos&rdquo; humming-birds seemed to nestle, so rapid was
+their flight, and over all a darkish vapour hung, blending the
+trees and water into one, and making the &ldquo;balsa,&rdquo; as
+it laboured over after repeated calls, look like the barque of
+Styx.&nbsp; Upon the other side lay Corrientes, once a vast
+mission territory, but to-day, in the narrow upper portion that
+we traversed, almost a desert, that is a desert of tall grass
+with islands of timber dotted here and there, and an occasional
+band of ostriches scudding across the plain.</p>
+<p>Camped by a wood about a quarter of a league from a lonely
+rancho, we were astonished, just at even-fall, by the arrival of
+the owner of the house mounted upon a half-wild horse, a spear in
+his hand, escorted by his two ragged sons mounted on half-wild
+ponies, and holding in their hands long canes to which a broken
+sheep-shear had been fixed.&nbsp; The object of his visit, as he
+said, was to inquire if we had seen a tiger which had killed some
+sheep, but his suspicious glance made me think he thought we had
+designs upon his cattle, and he had come <a
+name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>to
+reconnoitre us; but our offer of some of the Cruz Alta tea soon
+made us friends, and after drinking almost a quart of it, he said
+&ldquo;Muy rico,&rdquo; and rode back to his house.</p>
+<p>The third day&rsquo;s riding brought us to the little town of
+Candelaria, built on a high bank over the Parana.&nbsp; Founded
+on Candlemas Day in 1665, it was the chief town of the Jesuit
+missions.&nbsp; Here, usually, the &ldquo;Provincial&rdquo; <a
+name="citation56a"></a><a href="#footnote56a"
+class="citation">[56a]</a> resided, and here the political
+business of their enormous territory was done.&nbsp; Stretching
+almost from Cruz Alta to within fifty leagues of Asuncion del
+Paraguay, and from Yapey&uacute; upon the Uruguay almost to the
+&ldquo;Salto de Guayra&rdquo; upon the Parana, the territory
+embraced an area larger than many a kingdom, and was administered
+without an army, solely by about two hundred priests.&nbsp; The
+best proof of the success of their administration is that in
+these days the Indians, now to be numbered by a few thousand,
+were estimated at about two hundred thousand, and peopled all the
+country now left desolate, or which at least was desolate at the
+time of which I write.&nbsp; Even Azara, <a
+name="citation56b"></a><a href="#footnote56b"
+class="citation">[56b]</a> a bitter opponent of their system,
+writes of the Jesuit rule&mdash;&ldquo;Although the Fathers had
+supreme command, they used their power with a gentleness and
+moderation which one cannot but admire.&rdquo; <a
+name="citation56c"></a><a href="#footnote56c"
+class="citation">[56c]</a></p>
+<p><a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 57</span>I leave
+to the economists, with all the reverend rabble rout of
+politicians, statistic-mongers and philanthropists, whether or
+not two hundred thousand living Indians were an asset in the
+world&rsquo;s property; and to the pious I put this question, If,
+as I suppose, these men had souls just as immortal as our own,
+might it not have been better to preserve their bodies, those
+earthly envelopes without which no soul can live, rather than by
+exposing them to all those influences which the Jesuits dreaded,
+to kill them off, and leave their country without population for
+a hundred years?</p>
+<p>But at the time of which I write neither my partner nor I
+cared much for speculations of that kind, but were more occupied
+with the condition of our horses, for, by that time, the
+&ldquo;Bayo Overo&rdquo; and the &ldquo;Pateador&rdquo; were
+become part and parcel of ourselves, and we thought more about
+their welfare than that of all the Indians upon earth.</p>
+<p>La Candelaria, at the time when we passed through, was fallen
+from its proud estate, and had become a little Gaucho country
+town with sandy streets and horses tied at every door&mdash;a
+barren sun-burnt plaza, with a few Japanese ash-trees and
+Paraisos; the &ldquo;Commandancia&rdquo; with the Argentine <a
+name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+58</span>blue-and-white barred flag, and trade-mark rising sun,
+hanging down listlessly against the post, and for all remnants of
+the Jesuit sway, the college turned into a town-hall, and the
+fine church, which seemed to mourn over the godless, careless,
+semi-Gaucho population in the streets.&nbsp; Here we disposed of
+our spare horses, bidding them good-bye, as they had been old
+friends, and got the &ldquo;Bayo Overo&rdquo; and the
+&ldquo;Pateador&rdquo; shod for the first time in their lives, an
+operation which took the united strength of half-a-dozen men to
+achieve, but was imperative, as their feet, accustomed to the
+stone-less plains of Paraguay, had suffered greatly in the
+mountain paths.&nbsp; In Candelaria, for the first time for many
+months, we sat down to a regular meal, in a building called
+&ldquo;El Hotel Internacional&rdquo;; drank wine of a suspicious
+kind, and seemed to have arrived in Paris, so great the change to
+the wild camps beside the forests, or the nights passed in the
+lone ranchos of the hilly district of Brazil.</p>
+<p>A balsa drawn by a tug-boat took us across the Parana, here
+more than a mile broad, to Ytapua, and upon landing we found
+ourselves in quite another world.&nbsp; The little Paraguayan
+town of Ytapua, called by the Jesuits Encarnacion, lay, with its
+little port below it (where my friend Enrico Clerici had his
+store), upon a plateau hanging above the stream.&nbsp; The
+houses, built of canes and thatched with straw, differed
+extremely from <a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+59</span>the white &ldquo;azotea&rdquo; houses of the Candelaria
+on the other side.&nbsp; The people, dress, the vegetation, and
+the mode of life, differed still more in every aspect.&nbsp; The
+Paraguayan, with his shirt hanging outside his white duck
+trousers, bare feet, and cloak made of red cloth or baize, his
+broad straw hat and quiet manner, was the complete antithesis of
+the high-booted, loose-trousered, poncho-wearing Correntino, with
+his long knife and swaggering Gaucho air.&nbsp; The one a
+horseman of the plains, the other a footman of the forests; the
+Correntino brave even to rashness when taken man for man, but so
+incapable of discipline as to be practically useless as a
+soldier.&nbsp; The other as quiet as a sheep, and individually
+patient even to suffering blows, but once gathered together and
+instructed in the use of arms, as good a soldier, when well led,
+as it is possible to find; active and temperate, brave, and, if
+rather unintelligent, eager to risk his life at any time at the
+command of any of his chiefs.&nbsp; Such was the material from
+which Lopez, coward and grossly incompetent as he was, formed the
+battalions which for four years kept both Buenos Ayres and Brazil
+at bay, and only yielded when he himself was killed, mounted, as
+tradition has it, on the last horse of native breed left in the
+land.</p>
+<p>But if the people and their dwellings were dissimilar, the
+countries in themselves were to the full at least as
+different.&nbsp; All through the upper part <a
+name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>of Corrientes
+the soil is black, and the country open, park-like prairie dotted
+with trees; in Ytapua and the surrounding district, the earth
+bright red, and the primeval forest stretches close to the
+water&rsquo;s edge.&nbsp; In Corrientes still the trees of the
+Pampas are occasionally seen, Talas and &ntilde;andubay with
+Coronillo and Lapacho; whereas in Paraguay, as by a bound, you
+pass to Curupay, <a name="citation60a"></a><a href="#footnote60a"
+class="citation">[60a]</a> Tatan&eacute;, <a
+name="citation60b"></a><a href="#footnote60b"
+class="citation">[60b]</a> the Tarum&aacute;, <a
+name="citation60c"></a><a href="#footnote60c"
+class="citation">[60c]</a> the &Ntilde;andip&aacute;, <a
+name="citation60d"></a><a href="#footnote60d"
+class="citation">[60d]</a> the Jacaranda, and the Paratodo with
+its bright yellow flowers; whilst upon every tree lianas cling
+with orchidace&aelig;, known to the natives as &ldquo;flowers of
+the air,&rdquo; and through them all flit great butterflies,
+humming-birds dart, and underneath the damp vegetation of the
+sub-tropics, emphorbiace&aelig;, solanace&aelig;, myrtace&aelig;,
+and flowers and plants to drive a thousand botanists to madness,
+blossom and die unnamed.&nbsp; Here, too, the language changed,
+and Guarani became the dominant tongue, which, though spoken in
+Corrientes, is there used but occasionally, but among Paraguayans
+is their native speech, only the Alcaldes, officers, and upper
+classes as a general rule (at that time) speaking Spanish, and
+even then with a strange accent and much mixed with Guarani.</p>
+<p>Two days we passed in Ytapua resting our horses, and I renewed
+my friendship with Enrico Clerici, an Italian, who had served
+with Garibaldi, <a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+61</span>and who, three years ago, I had met in the same place
+and given him a silver ring which he reported galvanized, and was
+accustomed to lend as a great favour for a specific against
+rheumatism.&nbsp; He kept a pulperia, and being a born fighter,
+his delight was, when a row occurred (which he styled &ldquo;una
+barulla de Jesu Cristo&rdquo;), to clear the place by flinging
+empty bottles from the bar.&nbsp; A handsome, gentlemanlike man,
+and terrible with a bottle in his hand, whether as weapon of
+offence or for the purposes of drink; withal well educated, and
+no doubt by this time long dead, slain by his favourite weapon,
+and his place filled by some fat, double-entry Basque or grasping
+Catalan, or by some portly emigrant from Germany.</p>
+<p>Not wishing to be confined within a house, a prey to the
+mosquitoes, we camped in the chief square, and strolling round
+about the town, I came on an old friend.</p>
+<p>Not far outside the village a Correntino butcher had his shop,
+a little straw-thatched hut, with strings of fresh jerked beef
+festooning all the place; the owner stood outside dressed in the
+costume of a Gaucho of the southern plains.&nbsp; I did not know
+him, and we began to talk, when I perceived, tied underneath a
+shed, a fine, dark chestnut horse, saddled and bitted in the most
+approved of Gaucho style.&nbsp; He somehow seemed familiar, and
+the Correntino, seeing me looking at his horse, asked if I knew
+the brand, but looking at it I failed to <a
+name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 62</span>recognize it,
+when on a sudden my memory was lighted up.&nbsp; Three years ago,
+in an &ldquo;estero&rdquo; <a name="citation62"></a><a
+href="#footnote62" class="citation">[62]</a> outside
+Caapuc&uacute;, at night, journeying in company with a friend,
+one Hermann, whose only means of communication with me was a
+jargon of Spanish mixed with &ldquo;Plaat Deutsch,&rdquo; we met
+a Correntino, and as our horses mutually drowned our approach by
+splashing with their feet, our meeting terrified us both.&nbsp;
+Frightened, he drew his knife, and I a pistol, and Hermann lugged
+out a rusty sword, which he wore stuck through his horse&rsquo;s
+girths.&nbsp; But explanations followed, and no blood was shed,
+and then we drew aside into a little hillock, called in the
+language of the place an &ldquo;albardon,&rdquo; sat down and
+talked, and asking whence he came was told from Ytapua.&nbsp; Now
+Ytapua was three days&rsquo; journey distant on an ordinary
+horse, and I looked carefully at the horse, and wondered why his
+owner had ridden him so hard.&nbsp; He, I now saw, was the horse
+I had seen that night, and the Correntino recognized me, and
+laughing said he had killed a man near Ytapua, and was (as he
+said) &ldquo;retreating&rdquo; when he met me in the marsh.&nbsp;
+The horse, no doubt, was one of the best for a long journey I
+have ever seen, and after quoting to his owner that &ldquo;a dark
+chestnut horse may die, but cannot <a name="page63"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 63</span>tire,&rdquo; <a
+name="citation63a"></a><a href="#footnote63a"
+class="citation">[63a]</a> we separated, and, no doubt, for years
+afterwards our meeting was the subject of his talk.</p>
+<p>No doubt the citizens of Ytapua were scandalized at our not
+coming to the town, and the Alcalde came to interview us, but we
+assured him that in virtue of a vow we slept outside, and in a
+moment all his fears were gone.</p>
+<p>Striking right through the then desolated Misiones, passing
+the river Aguapey, our horses almost swimming, skirting by
+forests where red macaws hovered like hawks and parrots
+chattered; passing through open plains grown over here and there
+with Yatais, <a name="citation63b"></a><a href="#footnote63b"
+class="citation">[63b]</a> splashing for hours through wet
+esteros, missing the road occasionally, as I had travelled it but
+once, and then three years ago, and at the time I write of huts
+were few and far between, and population scanty, we came, upon
+the evening of the second day, near to a place called
+&Ntilde;acuti.&nbsp; This was the point for which I had been
+making, for near it was an estancia <a name="citation63c"></a><a
+href="#footnote63c" class="citation">[63c]</a> called the
+&ldquo;Potrero San Antonio,&rdquo; the property of Dr. Stewart, a
+well-known man in Paraguay.&nbsp; Nature had seemed to work to
+make the place impregnable.&nbsp; On three sides of the land,
+which measured eight or ten miles in length on every side, forks
+of <a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>a river
+ran, and at the fourth they came so close together that a short
+fence, not half-a-mile in length, closed up the circle, and
+cattle once inside were safe but for the tigers, which at that
+time abounded, and had grown so fierce by reason of the want of
+population that they sometimes killed horses or cows close to the
+door of the house.&nbsp; A short &ldquo;picada,&rdquo; of about a
+quarter of a mile in length, cut through the wood, led to the
+gate.&nbsp; Through it in times gone by I often rode at night in
+terror, with a pistol in my hand, the heavy foliage of the trees
+brushing my hat, and thinking every instant that a tiger would
+jump out.&nbsp; One night when close up to the bamboo bars I
+heard a grunt, thought my last hour had come, fired, and brought
+something down; approached, and found it was a peccary; and then,
+tearing the bars down in a hurry, got to horse, and galloped nine
+miles to the house, thinking each moment that the herd of
+peccaries was close behind and panting for my blood.</p>
+<p>On this occasion all was still; the passage through the orange
+trees was dark, their scent oppressive, as the leaves just
+stirred in the hot north wind, and fire-flies glistened to and
+fro amongst the flowers; great bats flew heavily, and the quarter
+of a mile seemed mortal, and as if it led to hell.</p>
+<p>Nothing occurred, and coming to the bars we found them on the
+ground; putting them up we conscientiously cursed the fool who
+left them out <a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+65</span>of place, and riding out into the moonlight, after a
+little trouble found the sandy, deep-banked trail which led up to
+the house.&nbsp; All the nine miles we passed by islands of great
+woods, peninsulas and archipelagos jutting out into the still
+plain, and all their bases swathed in white mists like water: the
+Yatais looked ghostly standing starkly in the grass; from the
+lagoons came the shrill croak of frogs, great moths came
+fluttering across our path, and the whole woods seemed filled
+with noise, as if the dwellers in them, silent through the day,
+were keeping holiday at night.&nbsp; As for the past two days we
+had eaten nothing but a few oranges and pieces of jerked beef,
+moistening them in the muddy water of the streams, our talk was
+of the welcome we should get, the supper, and of the comfortable
+time we then should pass for a few days to give our horses
+rest.</p>
+<p>We passed the tiger-trap, a structure built after the fashion
+of an enormous mouse-trap, of strong bamboos; skirted along a
+wood in which an ominous growling and rustling made our horses
+start, and then it struck me as curious that there were no cattle
+feeding in the plain, no horses, and that the whole potrero
+seemed strangely desolate; but the house just showing at the edge
+of a small grove of peach-trees drove all these speculations out
+of my head: thinking upon the welcome, and the dinner, for we had
+eaten nothing since daybreak, and were fasting, as the natives
+say, from everything but sin, <a name="page66"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 66</span>we reached the door.&nbsp; The house
+was dark, no troop of dogs rushed out to bark and seize our
+horses&rsquo; tails; we shouted, hammered with our whips, fired
+our revolvers, and nothing answered us.</p>
+<p>Dismounting, we found everything bolted and barred, and going
+to the back, on the kitchen-hearth a few red embers, and thus
+knew that some one had been lately in the place.&nbsp; Nothing to
+eat, the woods evidently full of tigers, and our horses far too
+tired to start again, we were just about to unsaddle and lie down
+and sleep, when a white figure stole out from the peach-trees,
+and tried to gain the shelter of the corral some sixty yards
+away.&nbsp; Jumping on horseback we gave chase, and coming up
+with the fugitive found it to be a Paraguayan woman, who with her
+little daughter were the sole inhabitants, her husband having
+gone to the nearest village to buy provisions, and left her all
+alone, warning her earnestly before he left to keep the doors
+shut during the night on account of the tigers, and not to
+venture near the woods even in daylight till he should have come
+back.&nbsp; Finding herself confronted by two armed, mounted men,
+dressed in the clothes of Correntinos, who had an evil reputation
+in Paraguay, her terror was extreme.&nbsp; Her daughter, a little
+girl of eight or nine, crept out from behind a tree, and in a
+moment we were friends.&nbsp; Unluckily for us, she had no food
+of any kind, and but a little mat&eacute;, which she <a
+name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 67</span>prepared for
+us.&nbsp; She then remembered that the trees were covered with
+peaches, and went out and gathered some, but they were hard as
+stones; nevertheless we ate a quantity of them, and having tied
+our horses close to the house, not twenty paces from the door, in
+long lush grass, we lay down in the verandah, and did not wake
+till it was almost noon.&nbsp; When we awoke we found the woman
+had been up betimes and gone on foot five or six miles away to
+look for food.&nbsp; She brought some mandioca, and two or three
+dozen oranges, and a piece of almost putrefied jerked beef, all
+which we ate as heartily as if it had been the most delicious
+food on earth.</p>
+<p>To my annoyance I found my horse weak and dejected, and
+several large clots of dried-up blood under the hair of his mane,
+and saw at once a vampire bat had fixed upon him, and no doubt
+sucked almost a quart of blood.&nbsp; We washed him in a pond
+close to the house, and he got better, and after eating some of
+the hard and unripe peaches we again lay down to sleep.&nbsp; By
+evening the woman&rsquo;s husband had returned, and proved to be
+a little lame and withered-looking man, mounted upon a lean and
+skinny horse.&nbsp; He undertook to guide us to Asuncion,
+remarking that it was twenty years since he had seen the capital,
+but that he knew the road as if he was accustomed to go there
+every day.&nbsp; With a slight lapsus this turned out to be the
+case, and just at daybreak we left the Potrero <a
+name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 68</span>San Antonio,
+where once before I had passed a month roaming about the woods,
+waiting for tigers in a tree at night, and never thinking that,
+in three years&rsquo; time, I should return and find it
+desolate.&nbsp; It seemed that Dr. Stewart, not finding the
+speculation pay, had sold his cattle, and his manager, one
+Oliver, a Californian &ldquo;Forty-niner,&rdquo; and his
+Paraguayan wife, had removed to a place some twenty leagues away,
+upon the road towards Asuncion.</p>
+<p>There we determined to go and rest our horses, and left the
+place, our guide Florencio&rsquo;s wife impressing on him to be
+sure and bring her back a little missal from the capital, and he,
+just like an Arab or an Indian leaving home, unmoved, merely
+observing that the folk in Asuncion were &ldquo;muy ladino&rdquo;
+(very cunning), and it behoved a Christian to take care.</p>
+<p>A day&rsquo;s long march brought us near Santa Rosa, and our
+guide here fell into his first and only error on the road.&nbsp;
+Pursuing an interminable palm-wood, we came out upon a little
+plain, all broken here and there with stunted Yatais, then to our
+great disgust the road bifurcated, and our guide insisted on
+striking to the left, though I was almost certain it was
+wrong.&nbsp; After an hour of heavy ploughing through the sand, I
+suddenly saw two immense palm-trees about a league away upon the
+right, and luckily remembered that they stood one on each side of
+the old Jesuit church at Santa Rosa, <a name="page69"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 69</span>and after an hour of scrambling
+through a stony wood arrived at the crossing of the little river
+just outside the place.&nbsp; Girls carrying water-jars upon
+their heads, and dressed in long white shifts, embroidered round
+the neck with coarse black lace, were going and coming in a long
+procession to the stream.&nbsp; A few old men and about thirty
+boys composed almost the entire male population of the
+town.&nbsp; Women entirely ruled the roost, and managed
+everything, and, as far as I can now recall, did it not much more
+inefficiently than men.&nbsp; The curious wooden church, dark,
+and with overhanging eaves, and all the images of saints still
+left from Jesuit times in choir and nave, with columns hewn from
+the trunks of massive trees, stood in the centre of the village,
+which was built after the fashion of a miner&rsquo;s
+&ldquo;row,&rdquo; or of a St. Simonian phalanstery, each
+dwelling at least a hundred feet in length, and all partitioned
+off in the inside for ten or fifteen families.&nbsp; The plaza
+was overgrown with grass, and on it donkeys played, chasing each
+other up and down, and sometimes running up the wooden steps of
+the great church, and stumbling down again.&nbsp; Those who had
+horses led them down to bathe, cut &ldquo;pindo&rdquo; <a
+name="citation69"></a><a href="#footnote69"
+class="citation">[69]</a> for them, rode them at evening time,
+and passed their time in dressing and in combing them to get them
+into condition for the Sunday&rsquo;s running at the ring, which
+sport introduced by the Jesuits has continued popular in all <a
+name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>the villages
+of the Misiones up to the present time.&nbsp; The women flirted
+with the men, who by their rarity were at a premium, gave
+themselves airs, and went about surrounded by a perpetual and
+admiring band.&nbsp; The single little shop, which contained
+needles, gunpowder, and gin, was kept by an Italian, who, as he
+told me, liked the place, lent money, was a professing and quite
+unabashed polygamist, and I have no doubt long ere this time has
+made a fortune, and retired to live at Genoa in the self-same
+green velvet suit in which he left his home.</p>
+<p>In this Arcadia we remained some days, and hired several girls
+to bathe the horses, which they performed most conscientiously,
+splashing and shouting in the stream for hours at a time, and
+bringing back the horses clean, and garnished with flowers in
+their manes.&nbsp; I rode one day to see a village two or three
+leagues away, where report said some of the Jesuit books had been
+preserved; got lost, and passed the night in a small clearing,
+where a fat and well-cared-for-looking handsome roan horse was
+tied.&nbsp; On seeing me he broke his picket-rope, ran furiously
+four or five times round me in circles, and then advancing put
+his nostrils close to the nostrils of my horse, and seemed to
+talk to him.&nbsp; His owner, an old Paraguayan, lame from a
+wound received in jumping from a canoe onto the deck of a
+Brazilian ironclad, told me his horse had been with him far into
+the interior, and <a name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+71</span>for a year had never seen another horse.&nbsp; But, he
+said, &ldquo;Tata Dios has given every animal its speech after
+its kind, and he is glad to see your horse, and is no doubt
+asking him the news.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>During the night, I cannot say exactly what the two horses
+talked about, but the old Paraguayan talked for hours of his
+adventures in the lately terminated war.&nbsp; It appeared that
+he, with seven companions, thinking to take a Brazilian ironclad
+anchored in the Paraguay, concealed themselves in a small canoe,
+behind some drift-wood, and floating plants called
+&ldquo;camalotes,&rdquo; drifted down with the stream, and coming
+to the ship jumped with a yell aboard.&nbsp; The Brazilians,
+taken by surprise, all ran below, and the poor Paraguayans
+thinking the ship was theirs, sat quietly down upon the deck to
+plan what they should do.&nbsp; Seeing them off their guard, some
+of the crew turned a gun upon them, and at the first fire killed
+six, and wounded my host, who sprang into the stream, and gained
+the bank, but most unluckily not on the Paraguayan side.&nbsp; As
+at that time the Chaco Indians, who had profited by the war to
+make invasions upon every side, killed every Christian, as my
+host said &ldquo;sin perdon,&rdquo; so he remained half starving
+for a night and day.&nbsp; On the third morning, wounded as he
+was, and seeing he must starve or else be killed if seen by
+Indians, he got a fallen tree, and with great difficulty, and
+marvellously escaping the fierce fish who come like <a
+name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 72</span>wolves to the
+scent of blood, and unmolested by the alligators, he reached the
+other side.&nbsp; There he was found by some women, lying
+unconscious on the river-bank, was cured, and though scarred in a
+dozen places, and lame for life, escaped, as he informed me, by
+his devotion to San Jos&eacute;, whom he described under the
+title of the &ldquo;husband of the mother of our Lord.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>In the morning he rode a league with me upon the way, and as
+we parted his horse neighed shrilly, reared once or twice, and
+plunged, and when we separated I looked back and saw the devotee
+of St. Joseph sitting as firmly as a centaur, as his horse loped
+along the sandy palm-tree-bordered trail.&nbsp; During our stay
+at Santa Rosa, which was an offshoot from the more important
+mission of Santa Maria de F&eacute;, although they had no priest
+the people gathered in the church, the Angelus was rung at
+evening for the &ldquo;oracion,&rdquo; and every one on hearing
+it took off his hat and murmured something that he thought
+apposite.&nbsp; Thus did ceremony, always much more important
+than mere faith, continue, and no doubt blessed the poor people
+to the full as much as if it had been duly sanctified by a
+tonsured priest, and consecrated by a rightly constituted
+offertory.&nbsp; We left the place with real regret, and to this
+day, when in our hurried life I dream of peace, my thoughts go
+back to the old Paraguayan Jesuit &ldquo;capilla&rdquo; lost in
+the woods of Morosimo, Curupay, and Yba-hai, and <a
+name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 73</span>with its two
+tall feathery palm-trees rustling above the desecrated church; to
+the long strings of white-robed women carrying water-jars, and to
+the old-world life, perhaps by this time altered and swept away,
+or yet again not altered, and passing still in the same quiet
+fashion as when we were there.</p>
+<p>Little by little we left the relatively open country of the
+Misiones behind, and passing Ibyra-puc&uacute;, San Roque, and
+Ximenes, came to the river Tebicuary.&nbsp; We passed it in
+canoes, the horses swimming, with their backs awash and heads
+emerging like water-monsters, whilst an impassive Indian paddled
+in the stern, and a young girl stood in the bows wielding a
+paddle like a water-sprite.&nbsp; The river passed, we got at
+once into the forests, and followed winding and narrow paths,
+worn by the footsteps of the mules of ages so deeply that our
+heavy Gaucho spurs almost trailed on the ground, whilst overhead
+lianas now and then quite formed a roof, and in the heavy air
+winged animals of every kind made life a burden.&nbsp; At last,
+leaving the little town of Quiquy&oacute; upon the right, we
+emerged on to a high and barren plain near Caapuc&uacute;.&nbsp;
+On the evening of the second day from where we crossed the river,
+we came to Caballero Punta, just underneath a range of flattish
+hills, and riding to the door at a sharp gallop, pulled up short,
+and found ourselves greeted by the ex-manager of the Potrero San
+Antonio, my friend the &ldquo;Forty-niner,&rdquo; and for the
+first time for four months saw a familiar face.&nbsp; <a
+name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 74</span>Gentle and
+kindly, though quick on the trigger, as befitted one who had
+crossed the plains in &rsquo;48 on foot, and with his whole
+possessions packed on a bullock, passing the Rocky Mountains
+alone, and through the hostile tribes at that time powerful and
+savage, John Oliver was one of those strange men who, having
+passed their lives in perils and privations, somehow draw from
+them that very kindliness which those living in what appear more
+favourable surroundings so often lack.&nbsp; Born somewhere in
+the Yorkshire Dales (these he remembered well), and as he thought
+&ldquo;back somewhere in the twenties,&rdquo; he had suffered all
+his life from the strange fever which impels some men to search
+for gold.&nbsp; Not on the Stock Exchange, or any of those places
+where it might reasonably be expected to be found, but in
+Australia, California, Mexico, in short wherever life was hard,
+death easy, and experience to be gathered, he sought with pick
+and shovel, rocker and pan and cradle, the &ldquo;yellow
+iron,&rdquo; as the Apaches used to call it, which sought and
+found after the fashion of his kind, enriches some one
+else.&nbsp; From California he had drifted to Peru, from thence
+to Chile, but finding silver-mining too laborious or too
+lucrative for his conversing, and hearing of a fertile diggings
+opened in the Republic of Uruguay, had migrated there, and
+arrived somehow in Paraguay to find that the enchantment of his
+life was done, and settled down to live.&nbsp; Tall, and with
+long grey hair hanging in Western fashion <a
+name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 75</span>down his
+back, a careful horseman after the style of the trappers of the
+West, his pale blue eyes looked out upon the world as with an air
+of doubt; yet he had served in San Francisco as a
+&ldquo;vigilante,&rdquo; sojourned with Brigham Young in Salt
+Lake City, leaving as he confessed two or three wives among the
+saints, sat in Judge Lynch&rsquo;s court a dozen times, most
+probably had killed a man or two; still, to my fancy, if the meek
+are to inherit any portion of the earth, his share should not be
+small.</p>
+<p>He made us welcome, and his wife waited upon us, never
+presuming to sit down and eat, but standing ready with a napkin
+fringed with lace, to wipe our hands, pressing the food upon us,
+and behaving generally as if she found herself in the presence of
+some strange beings of an unfamiliar race.&nbsp; He said he had
+no children and was glad of it, for he explained that
+&ldquo;Juaneeter was a good woman, but &lsquo;uneddicated,&rsquo;
+and he had never taken thoroughly to half-caste pups, though he
+remembered some born of a Pi-Ute woman, way back somewhere about
+the fifties, who he supposed by now were warriors, and had taken
+many scalps.&rdquo;&nbsp; His wife stood by, not understanding
+any English and but little Spanish, which he himself spoke badly,
+and their talk was held in a strange jargon mixed with Guarani,
+without a verb, without a particle, and yet sufficient for the
+two simple creatures whom a strange fate, or a discerning,
+ever-watchful Providence, had thus ordained to <a
+name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>meet.&nbsp;
+No books were in the place, except a Bible, which he read little
+of late years, partly from failing sight, and partly, as he said,
+because he had detected what seemed to him
+&ldquo;exaggerations,&rdquo; chiefly in figures and as to the
+number of the unbelievers whom the Chosen People slew.&nbsp; Two
+days or more, for time was taken no account of in his house, we
+waited with him, talking late every night of Salt Lake, Brigham
+Young, the Mountain-meadows Massacre, Kit Carson, Cochise and
+Mangas Coloradas, and matters of that kind which interested him,
+and which, when all is said, are just as interesting to those
+attuned to them, as is polemical theology, theories of art,
+systems of jurisprudence, the origin of the Atoll Islands, or any
+of the wise futilities with which men stock their minds.&nbsp; We
+parted on the third or fourth, or perhaps the fifth or sixth day,
+knowing that we should never meet again, and taking off my silver
+spurs I gave them to him, and he presented me with a light summer
+poncho woven by his wife.&nbsp; Much did he thank me for my
+visit, and made me swear never to pass the district without
+stopping at his house.&nbsp; This I agreed to do, and if I pass
+again either by Caballero Punta or by Caapuc&uacute;, I will keep
+faith; but he, I fear, will have deceived me, and in the
+churchyard of the &ldquo;capilla,&rdquo; under a palm-tree, with
+a rough cross above him, I shall find my simple friend.</p>
+<p>Three or four days of jogging steadily, passing <a
+name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>by Quindy,
+and through the short &ldquo;estero&rdquo; of Acaai, which we
+passed splashing for several hours up to the girths, brought us
+to Paraguari, which, with its saddle-shaped mountain overhanging
+it, stood out a mark for leagues upon the level plain.&nbsp;
+Seldom in any country have I seen a railway so fall into the
+landscape as did the line at the little terminus of this the only
+railway in all Paraguay.&nbsp; The war had left the country
+almost in ruins, business was at a standstill, food was scarce,
+and but for a bale or two of tobacco, and a hide-sack or two of
+yerba, the train went empty to and fro.&nbsp; But as the people
+always wanted to go to the capital in search of work, six or
+eight empty trucks were always sent with every train.&nbsp; On
+them the people (mostly women) swarmed, seated like flies, upon
+the top and sides, dangling their legs outside like people
+sitting on a wharf, talking incessantly, all dressed in white,
+and every one, down to the smallest children, smoking large
+cigars.&nbsp; Six hours the passage took, if all went well, the
+distance being under fifty miles.&nbsp; If aught went wrong, it
+took a day or more, and at the bridges the trucks were all
+unhooked and taken over separately, so rotten was the state of
+the whole line, and in addition every here and there bridges had
+been blown away during the war, and roughly rendered serviceable
+by shoring up with wood.&nbsp; To meet a train labouring and
+puffing through the woods, the people clustering like bees upon
+the trucks, the engineer seated <a name="page78"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 78</span>in shirt-sleeves, whilst some women
+stoked the fire, was much the same as it is to meet a caravan
+meandering across the sands.&nbsp; If you desired to talk with
+any one the train incontinently stopped, the passengers got out,
+relit their cigarettes, the women begged, the time of day was
+passed, and curiosity thus satisfied you passed on upon the road,
+and the &ldquo;Maquina-guazu,&rdquo; <a name="citation78"></a><a
+href="#footnote78" class="citation">[78]</a> as it was called,
+pursued contentedly the jolting and uneven tenor of its
+way.&nbsp; We naturally despised it, though the conductor,
+scenting business, offered to take us and our horses at almost
+any price we chose.</p>
+<p>By the Laguna Ypocarai we took our way; skirting along its
+eastern shores, then desolate, and the whole district almost
+depopulated, we passed by palm-groves and deserted mandioca
+patches, reed cottages in ruins, watched the flamingoes fishing
+in the lake, the alligators lying motionless, and saw an Indian
+all alone in a dug-out canoe, casting his line as placidly as he
+had lived before the coming of the Spaniards to the land.&nbsp; A
+red-blue haze hung on the waters of the lake, reflected from the
+bright red earth, peeping between the trees, and on the islands
+drifts of mist gave an effect as if the palms were parachutes
+dropped from balloons, or perhaps despatched from earth to find
+out whether in the skies there could be anything more lovely than
+this quiet inland sea.&nbsp; Close to the top end of the lake
+stands Aregua, once under the Mercenary friars of <a
+name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 79</span>Asuncion,
+who, as Azara says, having made the people of the place work for
+them for near two hundred years, began to think they were indeed
+their slaves, till an official sent from Spain in 1783 gave them
+their liberty, and the Mercenaries (as he says) at once retreated
+in disgust.&nbsp; Here we fell in with a compatriot, who at our
+time of meeting him was drunk.&nbsp; He told us that he passed
+his time after the fashion of the patriarchs in the Old
+Testament, and on arriving at his house it seemed he was provided
+with several wives, but of the flocks and herds, and other
+trade-marks of his supposed estate, we saw no trace.&nbsp; Still
+he was hospitable, setting the women to cut down pindo for the
+horses, take them to water, bathe them, and finally to cook some
+dinner for ourselves.&nbsp; His chief complaint was that his
+wives were Catholics, and now and then trudged off to mass, and
+left him without any one to cook his food.&nbsp; I doubted
+personally if a change of creed would better things, but held my
+peace, seeing the man set store by the faith which he had learnt
+in youth and still said he practised, but, as far as I could see,
+only by cursing the religion of the people of the place.&nbsp; We
+left his house without regret, though he was hospitable and half
+drunk for nearly all the time that we were there, and started on
+our last day&rsquo;s march considerably refreshed by meeting one
+who in a foreign land, far from home ties and moral influences,
+yet still pursued the simple practice of the faith which he had
+learned at home.</p>
+<p><a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>Luque,
+upon its little hill, the Campo Grande, like a dry lake,
+surrounded by thick woods on every side, and then the Recoleta,
+we passed, and entering the red sandy road made at the conquest
+to move troops upon, we saw the churches of Asuncion only a
+league away.&nbsp; And yet we lingered, walking our horses slowly
+in the deep red sand, passing the strings of countrywomen with
+baskets on their heads, driving their donkeys packed with
+sugar-cane, and smoking as they went; we lingered, feeling that
+the trip was done; not that we minded that our fortunes were not
+made, but vaguely felt that for the last five months we had lived
+a time which in our lives we should not see again, and fearing
+rather than looking forward to all the approaching change.&nbsp;
+The horses too were fat, in good condition, had become old
+friends, knew us so well we never tied them, but all night in
+camp left them to feed, being certain that they would not stray;
+and thus to leave them at the end of a long trip seemed as
+unreasonable as to part from an old friend simply because death
+calls.</p>
+<p>The road grew wider, passed through some scattered houses,
+buried in orange and guayaba trees, ran through some open patches
+where grew wild indigo and castor-oil plants, with a low
+palm-scrub, entered a rancheria just outside the town, and then
+turned to a sandy street which merged in a great market, where,
+as it seemed, innumerable myriads were assembled, all chattering
+at once, or <a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+81</span>so it struck us coming from the open solitary plains and
+the dark silent woods.&nbsp; The lowness of the river having
+stopped the Brazilian mail-boat from coming down from Corumba, we
+put up at the &ldquo;Casa Horrocks,&rdquo; the resort of all the
+waifs and strays storm-bound in Paraguay.&nbsp; The town buried
+in vegetation, the sandy streets, all of them watercourses after
+a night&rsquo;s rain, the listless life, the donkeys straying to
+and fro, the white-robed women, with their hair hanging down
+their backs, and cut square on the forehead after the style so
+usual amongst Iceland ponies, the great unfinished palaces, the
+squares with grass five or six inches high, and over all the
+reddish haze blending the palm-trees, houses, sandy streets, the
+river and the distant Chaco into a copper-coloured whole at
+sunset, rise to my memory like the reflection of a dream.&nbsp; A
+dream seen in a convex mirror, opening away from me as years have
+passed, the actual things, men, actions, and occurrences of daily
+life seem swollen in it at the far end of some perspective, but
+the impression of the whole fresh and clear-cut in memory,
+standing out as boldly as the last day when on the
+&ldquo;Pateador&rdquo; I had a farewell gallop on the
+beach.&nbsp; Adios, &ldquo;Pateador,&rdquo; or &ldquo;till so
+long&rdquo;&mdash;horses will be born as good, better, ten
+thousand times more valuable, and dogs will eat them, but for
+myself, and for the owner of the &ldquo;Bayo Overo,&rdquo; not
+all the coursers of the sun could stir the reminiscences of
+youth, of lonely <a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+82</span>camping-grounds, long nights in drenching rain,
+struggles with wind, wild gallops in the dark; the hopes and
+fears of the five months when we went fortune-seeking, and by
+God&rsquo;s mercy failed in our search, as the mere mention of
+those names forgotten to all the world except ourselves.</p>
+<p>Eight or ten days had passed away, and we grew quite familiar
+with the chief features of the place, having made acquaintance
+with the Brazilian officers of the army and the fleet, the German
+apothecary, with Dr. Stewart, the chief European of the place,
+when news came that the Brazilian mail-boat had at last
+arrived.&nbsp; We bade our friends good-bye, entrusted both our
+horses to the care of Horrocks, fed them ourselves for the last
+time, and went on board the ship; a coppery haze hung over
+everything, the heat raising a faint quivering in the air, the
+thick yellowish water of the stream lapping against the
+vessel&rsquo;s sides like oil, the boat shoved off, our friends
+perspiring in the sun raising a washed-out cheer.&nbsp; The
+vessel swung into the stream, her paddles turned, the great green
+flag with the orange crown imperial flapped at the jackstaff, and
+the town dropped rapidly astern.</p>
+<p>A quarter of a league and the church towers, tall palm-trees,
+the unfinished palaces, and the great theatre began to fade into
+the haze.&nbsp; Then sheering a little to the Left bank, the
+vessel passed a narrow tongue of land covered with grass, whereon
+two horses fed.&nbsp; As we drew nearer I saw they <a
+name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 83</span>were our own,
+and jumping on the taffrail shouted &ldquo;Adios,&rdquo; at which
+they raised their heads, or perhaps raised them but at the
+snorting steamer, and as they looked we passed racing down
+stream, and by degrees they became dimmer, smaller, less
+distinct, and at the last melted and vanished into the reddish
+haze.</p>
+<h2><a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 85</span>IN A
+GERMAN TRAMP</h2>
+<p><a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 87</span><span
+class="smcap">The</span> tall, flaxen-haired stewardess Matilda
+had finished cutting Schwartzbrod and had gone to bed.&nbsp; The
+Danish boarhound slept heavily under the lee of the
+chicken-coops, the six or seven cats were upon the cabin sofa,
+and with the wind from the south-west, raising a terrific sea,
+and sending showers of spray flying over the tops of the black
+rocks which fringed the town, the S.S. <i>Oldenburg</i> got under
+way and staggered out into the gut.</p>
+<p>The old white city girt on the seaward side by its breakwater
+of tall black rocks, the houses dazzlingly white, the crenelated
+walls, the long stretch of sand, extending to the belt of
+grey-green scrub and backed in the distance by the sombre forest,
+lay in the moonlight as distinct and clear as it had been
+mid-day.&nbsp; Clearer perhaps, for the sun in a sandy landscape
+seems to blur the outlines which the moon reveals; so that
+throughout North Africa night is the time to see a town in all
+its beauty of effect.&nbsp; The wind lifting the sand, drifted it
+whistling through the standing rigging of the tramp, coating the
+scarce dried paint, and making paint, rigging, and everything on
+board feel <a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+88</span>like a piece of shark-skin to the touch.&nbsp; The
+vessel groaned and laboured in the surface sea, and on the port
+quarter rose the rocks of the low island which forms the harbour,
+leaving an entrance of about half-a-mile between its shores and
+the rocks which guard the town.</p>
+<p>West-south-west a little westerly, the wind ever increased;
+the sea lashed on the vessel&rsquo;s quarter, and in spite of the
+dense volumes of black smoke and showers of sparks flying out
+from the salt-coated smoke-stack, the tramp seemed to stand
+still.&nbsp; Upon the bridge the skipper screamed hoarsely in
+Platt-Deutsch down his connection-tube to the chief engineer; men
+came and went in dirty blue check cotton clothes and wooden
+shoes; occasionally a perspiring fireman poked his head above the
+hatch, and looking seaward for a moment, scooped off the sweat
+from his forefinger, muttered, &ldquo;Gott freduma,&rdquo; and
+went below; even the Arab deck-hands, roused into activity,
+essayed to set a staysail, and the whole ship, shaken between the
+storm and the exertions of the crew, trembled and shivered in the
+yeasty sea.&nbsp; Nearer the rocks appeared, and the white town
+grew clearer, more intensely white, the sea frothed round the
+vessel, and the skipper advancing to a missionary seated silently
+gazing across the water with a pallid sea-green face, slapped him
+upon the back, and with an oath said, &ldquo;Mister, will you
+have one glass of beer?&rdquo;&nbsp; The Levite in partibus, clad
+in his black <a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+89</span>alpaca Norfolk jacket, grey greasy flannel shirt and
+paper collar, with the whole man surmounted by the inevitable
+pith soup-tureen-shaped hat, the trade-mark of his confraternity,
+merely pressed both his hands harder upon his diaphragm and
+groaned.&nbsp; &ldquo;One leetel glass beer, I have it from
+Olten, fifty dozen of it.&nbsp; Perhaps all to be wasted; have a
+glass beer, it will do your shtomag good.&rdquo;&nbsp; The
+persecuted United Presbyterian ambulant broke silence with one of
+those pious ejaculations which do duty (in the congregations) for
+an oath, and taking up his parable, fixing the pith tureen upon
+his head with due precaution, said, &ldquo;Captain, ye see I am a
+total abstainer, joined in the Whifflet, and in addeetion I feel
+my stomach sort o&rsquo; discomposed.&rdquo;&nbsp; And to him
+again, good Captain Rindelhaus rejoined, &ldquo;Well, Mister
+Missionary, do you see dat rocks?&rdquo;&nbsp; The Reverend Mr.
+McKerrochar, squinting to leeward with an agonizing stare,
+admitted that he did, but qualified by saying, &ldquo;there was
+sic a halgh, he was na sure that they were rocks at
+all.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Not rocks!&nbsp; Kreuz-Sacrament, dose
+rocks you see are sharp as razors, and the back-wash off them
+give you no jance; I dell you, sheep&rsquo;s-head preacher, dat
+point de way like signboard and not follow it oop himself, you
+better take glass beer in time, for if the schip not gather
+headway in about five minutes you perhaps not get another
+jance.&rdquo;&nbsp; After this dictum, he stood looking into the
+night, his glass gripped in his left <a name="page90"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 90</span>hand, and in his right a
+half-smoked-out cigar, which he put to his mouth mechanically now
+and then, but drew no smoke from it.&nbsp; The missionary too
+looked at the rocks with increased interest, and the Arab pilot
+staggering up the ladder to the bridge stolidly pointed to the
+surf, and gave us his opinion, that &ldquo;he, the captain and
+the faqui would soon be past the help of prayer,&rdquo; piously
+adding, &ldquo;that it seemed Allah&rsquo;s will; although he
+thought the Kaffirs, sons of burnt Kaffirs, in the stoke-hole
+were not firing up.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>With groans and heavings, with long shivers which came over
+her as the sea struck her on the beam, the vessel fought for her
+life, belching great clouds of smoke out into the clear night
+air.&nbsp; Captain and missionary, pilot and crew, stood gazing
+at the sea; the captain now and then yelling some unintelligible
+Platt-Deutsch order down the tube; the missionary fumbling with a
+Bible lettered &ldquo;Polyglot,&rdquo; covered in black
+oil-cloth; and the pilot passing his beads between the fingers of
+his right hand, his eyes apparently not seeing anything; and it
+seemed as if another twenty minutes must have seen them all upon
+the rocks.</p>
+<p>But Allah perhaps was on the watch; and the wind falling for
+an instant, or the burnt Kaffirs in the stoke-hole having struck
+a better vein of coal, the rusty iron sea-coffin slowly gathered
+headway, staggered as the engines driven to the highest pressure
+seemed to tear out her ribs, and forged <a
+name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 91</span>ahead.&nbsp;
+Then lurching in the sea, the screw occasionally racing with a
+roar, and the black decks dripping and under water, the scuppers
+being choked with the filth of years, she sidled out to sea, and
+rose and fell in the long rollers outside the harbour, which came
+in from the west.&nbsp; Rindelhaus set her on her course, telling
+the Arab helmsman in the pigeon-English which served them as a
+means of interchanging their few ideas, &ldquo;to keep her head
+north and by west a little northerly, and let him know when they
+were abreast of Jibel Hadid;&rdquo; adding a condemnation of the
+Arab race in general and the particular sailor, whom he
+characterized as a &ldquo;tamned heaven dog, not worth his
+kraut.&rdquo;&nbsp; The sailor, dressed in loose Arab trousers
+and a blue jersey, the whole surmounted by a greasy fez, replied:
+&ldquo;Yes, him know Jibel Hadid, captain, him keep her head
+north and by west all right,&rdquo; and probably also consigned
+the captain and the whole Germanic race to the hottest corner of
+Jehannum, and so both men were pleased.&nbsp; The boarhound
+gambolled on the deck, Matilda peeped up the companion, her
+dripping wooden shoes looking like waterlogged canoes, and the
+Scotch missionary began to walk about, holding his monstrous hat
+on with one hand and hugging the oilskin-covered
+&ldquo;Polyglot&rdquo; under his left arm.&nbsp; Crossing the
+skipper in his walk, in a more cheerful humour he ventured to
+remark: &ldquo;Eh! captain, maybe I could mak&rsquo; a shape at
+yon glass of beer <a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+92</span>the now.&rdquo;&nbsp; But things had changed, and
+Rindelhaus looked at him with the usual uncondescending bearing
+of the seaman to the mere passenger, and said: &ldquo;Nein, you
+loose your obbordunity for dat glass beer, my friend, and now I
+have to navigate my ship.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The <i>Oldenburg</i> pursued the devious tenor of her way,
+touching at ports which all were either open roadsteads or had
+bars on which the surf boiled with a noise like thunder;
+receiving cargo in driblets, a sack or two of marjoram, a bale of
+goatskins or of hides, two or three bags of wool, and sometimes
+waiting for a day or two unable to communicate until the surf
+went down.&nbsp; The captain spent his time in harbour fishing
+uninterestedly, catching great bearded spiky-finned sea-monsters
+which he left to die upon the deck.&nbsp; Not that he was
+hard-hearted, but merely unimaginative, after the way of those
+who, loving sport for the pleasure it affords themselves, hotly
+deny that it is cruel, or that it can occasion inconvenience to
+any participator in a business which they themselves enjoy.&nbsp;
+So the poor innocent sea-monsters floundered in slimy agony upon
+the deck; the boarhound and the cats taking a share in martyring
+them, tearing and biting at them as they gasped their lives away;
+condemned to agony for some strange reason, or perhaps because,
+as every living thing is born to suffer, they were enduring but
+their fair proportion, as they happened to be fish.&nbsp; <a
+name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 93</span>Pathetic but
+unwept, the tragedy of all the animals, and we but links in the
+same chain with them, look at it all as unconcerned as
+gods.&nbsp; But as the bearded spiky fish gasped on the deck the
+missionary tried to abridge their agony with a belaying-pin;
+covering himself with blood and slime, and setting up the back of
+Captain Rindelhaus, who vowed his deck should not be hammered
+&ldquo;like a skidel alley, all for the sake of half-a-dozen
+fish, which would be dead in half-an-hour and eaten by the
+cats.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The marvels of our commerce, in the shape of Waterbury
+watches, scissors and looking-glasses, beads, Swiss clocks, and
+musical-boxes, all duly dumped, and the off-scouring of the trade
+left by the larger ships duly received on board, the
+<i>Oldenburg</i> stumbled out to sea if the wind was not too
+strong, and squirmed along the coast.&nbsp; Occasionally upon
+arrival at a port the sound of psalmody was heard, and a
+missionary boat put off to pass the time of God with their
+brother on the ship.&nbsp; Then came the greetings, as the whole
+party sat on the fiddlee gratings jammed up against the funnel;
+the latest news from the Cowcaddens and the gossip from along the
+coast was duly interchanged.&nbsp; Gaunt-featured girls, removed
+by physical conditions from all temptation, sat and talked with
+scraggy, freckled, and pith-hatted men.&nbsp; It was all
+conscience, and relatively tender heart, and as the moon lit up
+the dirty decks, they paraded up <a name="page94"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 94</span>and down, happy once more to be
+secure even for a brief space from insult, and to feel themselves
+at home.&nbsp; Dressed in white blouses, innocent of stays, with
+skirts which no belt known to milliners could ever join to the
+body or the blouse; with smaller-sized pith hats, sand-shoes and
+spectacles; their hands in Berlin gloves, and freckles reaching
+far down upon their necks, they formed a crushing argument in
+their own persons against polygamy.&nbsp; Still, in the main, all
+kindly souls, and some with a twinkle in their white-eyelashed
+steel-grey eyes, as of a Congregationalist bull-terrier, which
+showed you that they would gladly suffer martyrdom without due
+cause, or push themselves into great danger, out of sheer
+ignorance and want of knowledge of mankind.&nbsp; Life&rsquo;s
+misfits, most of them; their hands early inured to typewriting
+machines, their souls, as they would say, &ldquo;sair hodden doon
+in prayer;&rdquo; carefully educated to be ashamed of any scrap
+of womanhood they might possess.&nbsp; Still they were
+sympathetic, for sympathy is near akin to tears, and looking at
+them one divined they must have shed tears plentifully, enough to
+wash away any small sins they had committed in their lives.</p>
+<p>The men, sunburnt yet sallow, seemed nourished on tinned meats
+and mineral table-waters; their necks scraggy and red protruded
+from their collars like those of vultures; they carried umbrellas
+in their hands from early habit of a wet climate, and seemed as
+if they had been chosen after much <a name="page95"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 95</span>cogitation by some unskilled
+commission, for their unfitness for their task.</p>
+<p>They too, dogged and narrow-minded as they were, were yet
+pathetic, when one thought upon their lives.&nbsp; No hope of
+converts, or of advancement in the least degree, stuck down upon
+the coast, far off from Dorcas meetings, school-feasts, or
+anything which in more favoured countries whiles away the
+Scripture-reader&rsquo;s time; they hammered at their
+self-appointed business day by day and preached unceasingly,
+apparently indifferent to anything that passed, so that they got
+off their due quantity of words a day.&nbsp; In course of time,
+and after tea and bread-and-butter had been consumed, they got
+into their boat, struck up the tune of &ldquo;Sidna Aissa
+Hobcum,&rdquo; and from the taffrail McKerrochar saw them depart,
+joining in the chorus lustily and waving a dirty handkerchief
+until they faded out of sight.&nbsp; Mr. McKerrochar, one of
+those Scottish professional religionists, whom early training or
+their own &ldquo;damnable iteration&rdquo; has convinced of all
+the doctrine that they preach, formed a last relic of a
+disappearing type.&nbsp; The antiquated out-and-out doctrine of
+Hellfire and of Paradise, the jealous Scottish God, and the
+Mosaic Dispensation which he accepted whole, tinged slightly with
+the current theology of Airdrie or Coatbridge, made him a
+formidable adversary to the trembling infidel, in religious
+strife.&nbsp; In person he was tall and loosely built, his
+trousers bagging <a name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+96</span>at the knees as if a horse&rsquo;s hock had been inside
+the cloth.&nbsp; Wrong-headed as befits his calling, he yet saw
+clearly enough in business matters, and might have marked a flock
+of heathen sheep had he applied his business aptitude to his
+religious work, or on the other hand he might have made a fortune
+had he chanced to be a rogue.&nbsp; He led a joyless stirring
+life, striving towards ideals which have made the world a
+quagmire; yet worked towards them with that simple faith which
+makes a man ten thousand times more dangerous, in his
+muddle-headed course.&nbsp; Abstractions which he called duty,
+morality, and self-sacrifice, ruled all his life; forcing him
+ever onward to occupy himself with things which really he had no
+concern with; and making him neglect himself and the more human
+qualities of courtesy and love.&nbsp; And so he stood, waving his
+pocket-handkerchief long after the strains of &ldquo;Sidna Aissa
+Hobcum&rdquo; had melted into the night air; his arms still
+waving as the sails of windmills move round once or twice, but
+haltingly, after the wind has dropped.&nbsp; Perhaps that class
+of man seldom or never chews the cud either of sweet or bitter
+recollection; and if, as in McKerrochar&rsquo;s case, he is
+deprived of whisky in which to drown his cares, the last
+impression gone, his mind hammers away, like the keys of a loose
+typewriter under a weary operator&rsquo;s hands, half aimlessly,
+till circumstances place new copy under its roller, and it starts
+off again to work.</p>
+<p><a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 97</span>He
+might have gone on waving right through the dog-watch had not the
+captain with a rough ejaculation stopped his arm.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Himmel, what for a semaphore, Herr missionary, is dat; and
+you gry too, when you look at dat going-way boat . . .&nbsp;
+Well, have a glass of beer.&nbsp; I tell you it is not good to
+look at boats and gry for noddings, for men that have an ugly
+yellow beard like yours and mine.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I was na greetin&rsquo;, captain,&rdquo; said the
+missionary, furtively wiping his face; &ldquo;it was just ane of
+thae clinkers, I think thae ca&rsquo; the things, has got into my
+eye.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Glinkers, mein friend, do not get into people&rsquo;s
+eyes when der ship is anchored,&rdquo; Rindelhaus replied;
+&ldquo;still I know as you feel, but not for missionary
+boats.&nbsp; You not know Oldenburg eh?&nbsp; Pretta place; not
+far from Bremerhaven.&nbsp; Oldenburg is one of the prettaest
+places in the world.&nbsp; I live dere.&nbsp; Hour and half by
+drain, oot from de port.&nbsp; I just can see the vessels&rsquo;
+masts and the funnel smoke as they pass oop and down the
+stream.&nbsp; I think I should not care too much to live where
+man can see no ships.&nbsp; Yes, yes, ah, here come Matilda mit
+de beer.&nbsp; Mein herz, you put him down here on dis bale of
+marjoram, and you goes off to bed.&nbsp; I speak here mit de Herr
+missionary, who gry for noddings when he look at missionary boat
+go off into de night.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, Oldenburg, ja, yes, I live there.&nbsp; Meine <a
+name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>wife she live
+there, and meine littel Gretchen, she about den or twelve, I
+don&rsquo;t remember which.&nbsp; Prosit, Herr missionary, you
+have no wife; no littel Gretchen, eh?&nbsp; So, so, dat is
+perhaps better for a missionary.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The two sat looking at nothing, thinking in the painful
+ruminant way of semi-educated men, the captain&rsquo;s burly
+North-German figure stretched on a cane deck-chair.&nbsp; About a
+captain&rsquo;s age he was, that is, his beard had just begun to
+grizzle, and his nose was growing red, the bunions on his feet
+knotted his boots into protuberances, after the style of those
+who pass their lives about a deck.&nbsp; In height above six
+feet, broad-shouldered and red-faced, his voice of the kind with
+which a huntsman rates a dog, his clothes bought at a Bremerhaven
+slop-shop, his boots apparently made by a portmanteau-maker, and
+in his pocket was a huge silver keyless watch which he said was a
+&ldquo;gronometer,&rdquo; and keep de Bremen time.&nbsp; Instant
+in prayer and cursing; pious yet blasphemous; kindly but brutal
+in the Teutonic way; he kicked his crew about as they had all
+been dogs, and yet looked after the tall stewardess Matilda as
+she had been his child; guarding her virtue from the assaults of
+passengers, and though alone with her in the small compass of a
+ship, respecting it himself.</p>
+<p>After an interval he broke into his subject, just as a
+phonograph takes up its interrupted tale, as if against its
+will.</p>
+<p><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+99</span>&ldquo;So ja, yes, Oldenburg, pretta place; I not see it
+often though.&nbsp; In all eight years I never stay more to my
+house than from de morning Saturday to Monday noon, and dat after
+a four months&rsquo; trip.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Meine wife, she getting little sdout, and not mind
+much, for she is immer washing; washing de linen, de house, de
+steps; she wash de whole ship oop only I never let her come to
+see.&nbsp; The Gretchen she immer say, &lsquo;Father, why you not
+stop to home?&rsquo;&nbsp; You got no littel Gretchen, eh?&nbsp;
+. . .&nbsp; Well, perhaps better so.&nbsp; Last Christmas I was
+at Oldenburg.&nbsp; Christmas eve I buy one tree, and then I
+remember I have to go to sea next morning about eleven
+o&rsquo;clock.&nbsp; So I say nodings all the day, and about four
+o&rsquo;clock the agent come and tell me that the company not
+wish me leave Oldenburg upon de Christmas day.&nbsp; Then I was
+so much glad I think I wait to eat meine Christmas dinner with
+meine wife, and talk with Gretchen in the evening while I smoke
+my pipe.&nbsp; The stove was burning, and the table stand ready
+mit sausage and mit bread and cheese, beer of course, and lax,
+dat lax they bring from Norway, and I think I have good
+time.&nbsp; Then I think on de company, what they say if I take
+favour from them and go not out to sea; they throw it in my teeth
+for ever, and tell me, &lsquo;Rindelhaus, you remember we was so
+good to you upon that Christmas day.&rsquo;&nbsp; I tell the
+agent thank you, but say I go to sea.&nbsp; Meine wife: she gry
+and I say nodings, nodings to Gretchen, <a
+name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>and sit
+down to take my tea.&nbsp; Morning, I tell my littel girl, then
+she gry bitterly and say, &lsquo;What for you go to
+sea?&rsquo;&nbsp; I kiss meine wife and walk down to the quay; it
+just begin to snow; I curse the schelm sailors, de pilot come
+aboard, and we begin to warp into the stream.&nbsp; Just then I
+hear a running on the quay, like as a Friesland pony come
+clattering on the stones.&nbsp; I look up and see Gretchen mit
+her little wooden shoes.&nbsp; She run down to the ship, and say,
+&lsquo;Why you go sea, father, upon Christmas day?&rsquo; and I
+not able to say nodings but just to wave my hand.&nbsp; We warp
+out into the stream, and she stand grying till she faded out of
+sight.&nbsp; Sometimes I feel a liddel sorry about dat Christmas
+day . . .&nbsp; But have another glass beer, Herr missionary, it
+always do me good.&rdquo;&nbsp; Wiping the froth from his
+moustache with his rough hand he went below, leaving the
+missionary alone upon the deck.</p>
+<p>The night descended, and the ship shrouded in mist grew
+ghostly and unnatural, whilst great drops of moisture hung on the
+backstays and the shrouds.</p>
+<p>The Arab crew lay sleeping, huddled round the windlass,
+looking mere masses of white dirty rags; the seaman keeping the
+anchor-watch loomed like a giant, and from the shore occasionally
+the voices of the guards at the town prison came through the
+mist, making the boarhound turn in his sleep and growl.&nbsp; The
+missionary paced to and fro a little, <a name="page101"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 101</span>settling his pith tureen-shaped hat
+upon his head, and fastening a woollen comforter about his
+neck.</p>
+<p>Then going to the rail, he looked into the night where the
+boat bearing off his brethren had disappeared; his soul perhaps
+wandering towards some Limbo as he gazed, and his elastic-sided
+boots fast glued to the dirty decks by the half-dried-up blood of
+the discarded fish.</p>
+<h2><a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 103</span>THE
+GOLD FISH</h2>
+<p><a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 105</span><span
+class="smcap">Outside</span> the little straw-thatched
+<i>caf&eacute;</i> in a small courtyard trellised with vines,
+before a miniature table painted in red and blue, and upon which
+stood a dome-shaped pewter teapot and a painted glass half filled
+with mint, sat Amarabat, resting and smoking hemp.&nbsp; He was
+of those whom Allah in his mercy (or because man in the
+Blad-Allah has made no railways) has ordained to run.&nbsp; Set
+upon the road, his shoes pulled up, his waistband tightened, in
+his hand a staff, a palm-leaf wallet at his back, and in it
+bread, some hemp, a match or two (known to him as el spiritus),
+and a letter to take anywhere, crossing the plains, fording the
+streams, struggling along the mountain-paths, sleeping but
+fitfully, a burning rope steeped in saltpetre fastened to his
+foot, he trotted day and night&mdash;untiring as a camel,
+faithful as a dog.&nbsp; In Rabat as he sat dozing, watching the
+greenish smoke curl upwards from his hemp pipe, word came to him
+from the Khalifa of the town.&nbsp; So Amarabat rose, paid for
+his tea with half a handful of defaced and greasy copper coins,
+and took his way towards the white palace with the crenelated
+walls, which on the cliff, hanging <a name="page106"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 106</span>above the roaring tide-rip, just
+inside the bar of the great river, looks at Salee.&nbsp; Around
+the horseshoe archway of the gate stood soldiers, wild,
+fierce-eyed, armed to the teeth, descendants, most of them, of
+the famed warriors whom Sultan Muley Ismail (may God have
+pardoned him!) bred for his service, after the fashion of the
+Carlylean hero Frederic; and Amarabat walked through them, not
+aggressively, but with the staring eyes of a confirmed
+hemp-smoker, with the long stride of one who knows that he is
+born to run, and the assurance of a man who waits upon his
+lord.&nbsp; Some time he waited whilst the Khalifa dispensed what
+he thought justice, chaffered with Jewish pedlars for cheap
+European goods, gossiped with friends, looked at the antics of a
+dwarf, or priced a Georgian or Circassian girl brought with more
+care than glass by some rich merchant from the East.&nbsp; At
+last Amarabat stood in the presence, and the Khalifa, sitting
+upon a pile of cushions playing with a Waterbury watch, a pistol
+and a Koran by his side, addressed him thus:&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Amarabat, son of Bjorma, my purpose is to send thee to
+Tafilet, where our liege lord the Sultan lies with his
+camp.&nbsp; Look upon this glass bowl made by the Kaffir, but
+clear as is the crystal of the rock; see how the light falls on
+the water, and the shifting colours that it makes, as when the
+Bride of the Rain stands in the heavens, after a shower in
+spring.&nbsp; Inside are seven gold fish, each <a
+name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 107</span>scale as
+bright as letters in an Indian book.&nbsp; The Christian from
+whom I bought them said originally they came from the Far East
+where the Djin-descended Jawi live, the little yellow people of
+the faith.&nbsp; That may be, but such as they are, they are a
+gift for kings.&nbsp; Therefore, take thou the bowl.&nbsp; Take
+it with care, and bear it as it were thy life.&nbsp; Stay not,
+but in an hour start from the town.&nbsp; Delay not on the road,
+be careful of the fish, change not their water at the muddy pool
+where tortoises bask in the sunshine, but at running brooks; talk
+not to friends, look not upon the face of woman by the way,
+although she were as a gazelle, or as the maiden who when she
+walked through the fields the sheep stopped feeding to
+admire.&nbsp; Stop not, but run through day and night, pass
+through the Atlas at the Glaui; beware of frost, cover the bowl
+with thine own haik; upon the other side shield me the bowl from
+the Saharan sun, and drink not of the water if thou pass a day
+athirst when toiling through the sand.&nbsp; Break not the bowl,
+and see the fish arrive in Tafilet, and then present them, with
+this letter, to our lord.&nbsp; Allah be with you, and his
+Prophet; go, and above all things see thou breakest not the
+bowl.&rdquo;&nbsp; And Amarabat, after the manner of his kind,
+taking the bowl of gold fish, placed one hand upon his heart and
+said: &ldquo;Inshallah, it shall be as thou hast said.&nbsp; God
+gives the feet and lungs.&nbsp; He also gives the luck upon the
+road.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So he passed out under the horseshoe arch, <a
+name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 108</span>holding the
+bowl almost at arm&rsquo;s length so as not to touch his legs,
+and with the palmetto string by which he carried it, bound round
+with rags.&nbsp; The soldiers looked at him, but spoke not, and
+their eyes seemed to see far away, and to pass over all in the
+middle distance, though no doubt they marked the smallest detail
+of his gait and dress.&nbsp; He passed between the horses of the
+guard all standing nodding under the fierce sun, the reins tied
+to the cantles of their high red saddles, a boy in charge of
+every two or three: he passed beside the camels resting by the
+well, the donkeys standing dejected by the firewood they had
+brought: passed women, veiled white figures going to the baths;
+and passing underneath the lofty gateway of the town, exchanged a
+greeting with the half-mad, half-religious beggar just outside
+the walls, and then emerged upon the sandy road, between the aloe
+hedges, which skirts along the sea.&nbsp; So as he walked, little
+by little he fell into his stride; then got his second wind, and
+smoking now and then a pipe of hemp, began, as Arabs say, to cat
+the miles, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his stick stuck down
+between his shirt and back, the knob protruding over the left
+shoulder like the hilt of a two-handed sword.&nbsp; And still he
+held the precious bowl from Franquestan in which the golden fish
+swam to and fro, diving and circling in the sunlight, or flapped
+their tails to steady themselves as the water danced with the
+motion of his steps.&nbsp; Never before in his experience had he
+<a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 109</span>been
+charged with such a mission, never before been sent to stand
+before Allah&rsquo;s vicegerent upon earth.&nbsp; But still the
+strangeness of his business was what preoccupied him most.&nbsp;
+The fish like molten gold, the water to be changed only at
+running streams, the fish to be preserved from frost and sun; and
+then the bowl: had not the Khalifa said at the last,
+&ldquo;Beware, break not the bowl&rdquo;?&nbsp; So it appeared to
+him that most undoubtedly a charm was in the fish and in the
+bowl, for who sends common fish on such a journey through the
+land?&nbsp; Then he resolved at any hazard to bring them safe and
+keep the bowl intact, and trotting onward, smoked his hemp, and
+wondered why he of all men should have had the luck to bear the
+precious gift.&nbsp; He knew he kept his law, at least as far as
+a poor man can keep it, prayed when he thought of prayer, or was
+assailed by terror in the night alone upon the plains; fasted in
+Ramadan, although most of his life was one continual fast; drank
+of the shameful but seldom, and on the sly, so as to give offence
+to no believer, and seldom looked upon the face of the strange
+women, Daughters of the Illegitimate, whom Sidna Mohammed himself
+has said, avoid.&nbsp; But all these things he knew were done by
+many of the faithful, and so he did not set himself up as of
+exceeding virtue, but rather left the praise to God, who helped
+his slave with strength to keep his law.&nbsp; Then left off
+thinking, judging the matter was ordained, and trotted, trotted
+over the burning plains, the gold fish <a
+name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 110</span>dancing in
+the water as the miles melted and passed away.</p>
+<p>Duar and Kasbah, castles of the Caids, Arabs&rsquo; black
+tents, suddra zaribas, camels grazing&mdash;antediluvian in
+appearance&mdash;on the little hills, the muddy streams edged all
+along the banks with oleanders, the solitary horsemen holding
+their long and brass-hooped guns like spears, the white-robed
+noiseless-footed travellers on the roads, the chattering storks
+upon the village mosques, the cow-birds sitting on the cattle in
+the fields&mdash;he saw, but marked not, as he trotted on.&nbsp;
+Day faded into night, no twilight intervening, and the stars
+shone out, Soheil and Rigel with Betelgeuse and Aldebaran, and
+the three bright lamps which the cursed Christians know as the
+Three Maries&mdash;called, he supposed, after the mother of their
+Prophet; and still he trotted on.&nbsp; Then by the side of a
+lone palm-tree springing up from a cleft in a tall rock, an
+island on the plain, he stopped to pray; and sleeping, slept but
+fitfully, the strangeness of the business making him wonder; and
+he who cavils over matters in the night can never rest, for thus
+the jackal and the hyena pass their nights talking and reasoning
+about the thoughts which fill their minds when men lie with their
+faces covered in their haiks, and after prayer sleep.&nbsp;
+Rising after an hour or two and going to the nearest stream, he
+changed the water of his fish, leaving a little in the bottom of
+the bowl, and dipping with his brass drinking-cup into the stream
+<a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 111</span>for fear
+of accidents.&nbsp; He passed the Kasbah of el Daudi, passed the
+land of the Rahamna, accursed folk always in &ldquo;siba,&rdquo;
+saw the great snowy wall of Atlas rise, skirted Marakesh, the
+Kutubieh, rising first from the plain and sinking last from sight
+as he approached the mountains and left the great white city
+sleeping in the plain.</p>
+<p>Little by little the country altered as he ran: cool streams
+for muddy rivers, groves of almond-trees, ashes and elms, with
+grape-vines binding them together as the liana binds the canela
+and the urunday in the dark forests of Brazil and Paraguay.&nbsp;
+At mid-day, when the sun was at its height, when locusts,
+whirring through the air, sank in the dust as flying-fish sink in
+the waves, when palm-trees seem to nod their heads, and lizards
+are abroad drinking the heat and basking in the rays, when the
+dry air shimmers, and sparks appear to dance before the
+traveller&rsquo;s eye, and a thin, reddish dust lies on the
+leaves, on clothes of men, and upon every hair of horses&rsquo;
+coats, he reached a spring.&nbsp; A river springing from a rock,
+or issuing after running underground, had formed a little
+pond.&nbsp; Around the edge grew bulrushes, great catmace,
+water-soldiers, tall arums and metallic-looking sedge-grass,
+which gave an air as of an outpost of the tropics lost in the
+desert sand.&nbsp; Fish played beneath the rock where the stream
+issued, flitting to and fro, or hanging suspended for an instant
+in the clear stream, darted into the dark recesses of the sides;
+and in <a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+112</span>the middle of the pond enormous tortoises, horrid and
+antediluvian-looking, basked with their backs awash or raised
+their heads to snap at flies, and all about them hung a dark and
+fetid slime.</p>
+<p>A troop of thin brown Arab girls filled their tall amphora
+whilst washing in the pond.&nbsp; Placing his bowl of fish upon a
+jutting rock, the messenger drew near.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Gazelles,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will one of you give me
+fresh water for the Sultan&rsquo;s golden fish?&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Laughing and giggling, the girls drew near, looked at the bowl,
+had never seen such fish.&nbsp; &ldquo;Allah is great; why do you
+not let them go in the pond and play a little with their
+brothers?&rdquo;&nbsp; And Amarabat with a shiver answered,
+&ldquo;Play, let them play! and if they come not back my life
+will answer for it.&rdquo;&nbsp; Fear fell upon the girls, and
+one advancing, holding the skirt of her long shift between her
+teeth to veil her face, poured water from her amphora upon the
+fish.</p>
+<p>Then Amarabat, setting down his precious bowl, drew from his
+wallet a pomegranate and began to eat, and for a farthing buying
+a piece of bread from the women, was satisfied, and after
+smoking, slept, and dreamed he was approaching Tafilet; he saw
+the palm-trees rising from the sand; the gardens; all the oasis
+stretching beyond his sight; at the edge the Sultan&rsquo;s camp,
+a town of canvas, with the horses, camels, and the mules
+picketed, all in rows, and in the midst of the great
+&ldquo;duar&rdquo; the Sultan&rsquo;s tent, like a great palace
+all of canvas, <a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+113</span>shining in the sun.&nbsp; All this he saw, and saw
+himself entering the camp, delivering up his fish, perhaps
+admitted to the sacred tent, or at least paid by a vizier, as one
+who has performed his duty well.&nbsp; The slow match blistering
+his foot, he woke to find himself alone, the
+&ldquo;gazelles&rdquo; departed, and the sun shining on the bowl,
+making the fish appear more magical, more wondrous, brighter, and
+more golden than before.</p>
+<p>And so he took his way along the winding Atlas paths, and
+slept at Demnats, then, entering the mountains, met long trains
+of travellers going to the south.&nbsp; Passing through groves of
+chestnuts, walnut-trees, and hedges thick with blackberries and
+travellers&rsquo; joy, he climbed through vineyards rich with
+black Atlas grapes, and passed the flat mud-built Berber villages
+nestling against the rocks.&nbsp; Eagles flew by and moufflons
+gazed at him from the peaks, and from the thickets of lentiscus
+and dwarf arbutus wild boars appeared, grunted, and slowly walked
+across the path, and still he climbed, the icy wind from off the
+snow chilling him in his cotton shirt, for his warm Tadla haik
+was long ago wrapped round the bowl to shield the precious
+fish.&nbsp; Crossing the Wad Ghadat, the current to his chin, his
+bowl of fish held in one hand, he struggled on.&nbsp; The Berber
+tribesmen at Tetsula and Zarkten, hard-featured, shaved but for a
+chin-tuft, and robed in their &ldquo;achnifs&rdquo; with the
+curious eye woven in the skirt, saw he was a
+&ldquo;rekass,&rdquo; or thought the <a name="page114"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 114</span>fish not worth their notice, so gave
+him a free road.&nbsp; Night caught him at the stone-built,
+antediluvian-looking Kasbah of the Glaui, perched in the eye of
+the pass, with the small plain of Teluet two thousand feet
+below.&nbsp; Off the high snow-peaks came a whistling wind, water
+froze solid in all the pots and pans, earthenware jars and
+bottles throughout the castle, save in the bowl which Amarabat,
+shivering and miserable, wrapped in his haik and held close to
+the embers, hearing the muezzin at each call to prayers; praying
+himself to keep awake so that his fish might live.&nbsp; Dawn saw
+him on the trail, the bowl wrapped in a woollen rag, and the fish
+fed with bread-crumbs, but himself hungry and his head swimming
+with want of sleep, with smoking &ldquo;kief,&rdquo; and with the
+bitter wind which from El Tisi N&rsquo;Glaui flagellates the
+road.&nbsp; Right through the valley of Teluet he still kept on,
+and day and night still trotting, trotting on, changing his bowl
+almost instinctively from hand to hand, a broad leaf floating on
+the top to keep the water still, he left Agurzga, with its twin
+castles, Ghresat and Dads, behind.&nbsp; Then rapidly descending,
+in a day reached an oasis between Todghra and Ferkla, and rested
+at a village for the night.&nbsp; Sheltered by palm-trees and
+hedged round with cactuses and aloes, either to keep out thieves
+or as a symbol of the thorniness of life, the village lay,
+looking back on the white Atlas gaunt and mysterious, and on the
+other side towards the brown Sahara, land of the palm-tree <a
+name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+115</span>(Belad-el-Jerid), the refuge of the true Ishmaelite;
+for in the desert, learning, good faith, and hospitality can
+still be found&mdash;at least, so Arabs say.</p>
+<p>Orange and azofaifa trees, with almonds, sweet limes and
+walnuts, stood up against the waning light, outlined in the clear
+atmosphere almost so sharply as to wound the eye.&nbsp; Around
+the well goats and sheep lay, whilst a girl led a camel round the
+Noria track; women sat here and there and gossiped, with their
+tall earthenware jars stuck by the point into the ground, and
+waited for their turn, just as they did in the old times, so far
+removed from us, but which in Arab life is but as yesterday, when
+Jacob cheated Esau, and the whole scheme of Arab life was
+photographed for us by the writers of the Pentateuch.&nbsp; In
+fact, the self-same scene which has been acted every evening for
+two thousand years throughout North Africa, since the adventurous
+ancestors of the tribesmen of to-day left Hadrumut or Yemen, and
+upon which Allah looks down approvingly, as recognizing that the
+traditions of his first recorded life have been well kept.&nbsp;
+Next day he trotted through the barren plain of Seddat, the Jibel
+Saghra making a black line on the horizon to the south.&nbsp;
+Here Berber tribes sweep in their razzias like hawks; but who
+would plunder a rekass carrying a bowl of fish?&nbsp; Crossing
+the dreary plain and dreaming of his entry into Tafilet, which
+now was almost in his reach not two days distant, the sun beating
+on his <a name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+116</span>head, the water almost boiling in the bowl, hungry and
+footsore, and in the state betwixt waking and sleep into which
+those who smoke hemp on journeys often get, he branched away upon
+a trail leading towards the south.&nbsp; Between the oases of
+Todghra and Ferkla, nothing but stone and sand, black stones on
+yellow sand; sand, and yet more sand, and then again stretches of
+blackish rocks with a suddra bush or two, and here and there a
+colocynth, bitter and beautiful as love or life, smiling up at
+the traveller from amongst the stones.&nbsp; Towards midday the
+path led towards a sandy tract all overgrown with sandrac bushes
+and crossed by trails of jackals and hyenas, then it quite
+disappeared, and Amarabat waking from his dream saw he was
+lost.&nbsp; Like a good shepherd, his first thought was for his
+fish; for he imagined the last few hours of sun had made them
+faint, and one of them looked heavy and swam sideways, and the
+rest kept rising to the surface in an uneasy way.&nbsp; Not for a
+moment was Amarabat frightened, but looked about for some known
+landmark, and finding none started to go back on his trail.&nbsp;
+But to his horror the wind which always sweeps across the Sahara
+had covered up his tracks, and on the stony paths which he had
+passed his feet had left no prints.&nbsp; Then Amarabat, the
+first moments of despair passed by, took a long look at the
+horizon, tightened his belt, pulled up his slipper heels, covered
+his precious bowl with a corner of his robe, and started doggedly
+back upon <a name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+117</span>the road he thought he traversed on the deceitful
+path.&nbsp; How long he trotted, what he endured, whether the
+fish died first, or if he drank, or, faithful to the last,
+thirsting met death, no one can say.&nbsp; Most likely wandering
+in the waste of sandhills and of suddra bushes he stumbled on,
+smoking his hashish while it lasted, turning to Mecca at the time
+of prayer, and trotting on more feebly (for he was born to run),
+till he sat down beneath the sun-dried bushes where the Shinghiti
+on his Mehari found him dead beside the trail.&nbsp; Under a
+stunted sandarac tree, the head turned to the east, his body lay,
+swollen and distorted by the pangs of thirst, the tongue
+protruding rough as a parrot&rsquo;s, and beside him lay the
+seven golden fish, once bright and shining as the pure gold when
+the goldsmith pours it molten from his pot, but now turned black
+and bloated, stiff, dry, and dead.&nbsp; Life the mysterious, the
+mocking, the inscrutable, unseizable, the uncomprehended essence
+of nothing and of everything, had fled, both from the faithful
+messenger and from his fish.&nbsp; But the Khalifa&rsquo;s
+parting caution had been well obeyed, for by the tree, unbroken,
+the crystal bowl still glistened beautiful as gold, in the fierce
+rays of the Saharan sun.</p>
+<h2><a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 119</span>A
+HEGIRA</h2>
+<p><a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 121</span><span
+class="smcap">The</span> giant cypresses, tall even in the time
+of Montezuma, the castle of Chapultepec upon its rock (an island
+in the plain of Mexico), the panorama of the great city backed by
+the mountain range; the two volcanoes, the Popocatepetl and the
+Istacihuatl, and the lakes; the tigers in their cages, did not
+interest me so much as a small courtyard, in which, ironed and
+guarded, a band of Indians of the Apache tribe were kept
+confined.&nbsp; Six warriors, a woman and a boy, captured close
+to Chihuahua, and sent to Mexico, the Lord knows why; for
+generally an Apache captured was shot at once, following the
+frontier rule, which without difference of race was held on both
+sides of the Rio Grande, that a good Indian must needs be
+dead.</p>
+<p>Silent and stoical the warriors sat, not speaking once in a
+whole day, communicating but by signs; naked except the
+breech-clout; their eyes apparently opaque, and looking at you
+without sight, but seeing everything; and their demeanour less
+reassuring than that of the tigers in the cage hard by.&nbsp; All
+could speak Spanish if they liked, some a word or two of English,
+but no one heard them <a name="page122"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 122</span>say a word in either tongue.&nbsp; I
+asked the nearest if he was a Mescalero, and received the answer:
+&ldquo;Mescalero-hay,&rdquo; and for a moment a gleam shone
+through their eyes, but vanished instantly, as when the light
+dies out of the wire in an electric lamp.&nbsp; The soldier at
+the gate said they were &ldquo;brutes&rdquo;; all sons of dogs,
+infidels, and that for his part he could not see why the
+&ldquo;Gobierno&rdquo; went to the expense of keeping them
+alive.&nbsp; He thought they had no sense; but in that showed his
+own folly, and acted after the manner of the half-educated man
+the whole world over, who knowing he can read and write thinks
+that the savage who cannot do so is but a fool; being unaware
+that, in the great book known as the world, the savage often is
+the better scholar of the two.</p>
+<p>But five-and-twenty years ago the Apache nation, split into
+its chief divisions of Mescaleros, Jicarillas, Coyoteros, and
+Lipanes, kept a great belt of territory almost five hundred miles
+in length, and of about thirty miles in breadth, extending from
+the bend of the Rio Gila to El Paso, in a perpetual war.&nbsp; On
+both sides of the Rio Grande no man was safe; farms were
+deserted, cattle carried off, villages built by the Spaniards,
+and with substantial brick-built churches, mouldered into decay;
+mines were unworkable, and horses left untended for a moment were
+driven off in open day; so bold the thieves, that at one time
+they had a settled month for plundering, which they called <a
+name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 123</span>openly the
+Moon of the Mexicans, though they did not on that account suspend
+their operations at other seasons of the year.&nbsp; Cochise and
+Mangas-Coloradas, Naked Horse, Cuchillo Negro, and others of
+their chiefs, were once far better known upon the frontiers than
+the chief senators of the congresses of either of the two
+republics; and in some instances these chiefs showed an
+intelligence, knowledge of men and things, which in another
+sphere would certainly have raised them high in the estimation of
+mankind.</p>
+<p>The Shis-Inday (the people of the woods), their guttural
+language, with its curious monosyllable &ldquo;hay&rdquo; which
+they tacked on to everything, as &ldquo;Oro-hay&rdquo; and
+&ldquo;plata-hay&rdquo;; their strange democracy, each man being
+chief of himself, and owning no allegiance to any one upon the
+earth; all now have almost passed away, destroyed and swallowed
+up by the &ldquo;Inday pindah lichoyi&rdquo; (the men of the
+white eyes), as they used to call the Americans and all those
+northerners who ventured into their territory to look for
+&ldquo;yellow iron.&rdquo;&nbsp; I saw no more of the Apaches,
+and except once, never again met any one of them; but as I left
+the place the thought came to my mind, if any of them succeed in
+getting out, I am certain that the six or seven hundred miles
+between them and their country will be as nothing to them, and
+that their journey thither will be marked with blood.</p>
+<p>At Huehuetoca I joined the mule-train, doing <a
+name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 124</span>the twenty
+miles which in those days was all the extent of railway in the
+country to the north, and lost my pistol in a crowd just as I
+stepped into the train, some &ldquo;lepero&rdquo; having
+abstracted it out of my belt when I was occupied in helping five
+strong men to get my horse into a cattle-truck.&nbsp; From
+Huehuetoca we marched to Tula, and there camped for the night,
+sleeping in a &ldquo;meson&rdquo; built like an Eastern fondak
+round a court, and with a well for watering the beasts in the
+centre of the yard.&nbsp; I strolled about the curious town, in
+times gone by the Aztec capital, looked at the churches, built
+like fortresses, and coming back to the &ldquo;meson&rdquo;
+before I entered the cell-like room without a window, and with a
+plaster bench on which to spread one&rsquo;s saddle and
+one&rsquo;s rugs, I stopped to talk with a knot of travellers
+feeding their animals on barley and chopped straw, grouped round
+a fire, and the whole scene lit up and rendered Rembrandtesque by
+the fierce glow of an &ldquo;ocote&rdquo; torch.&nbsp; So talking
+of the Alps and Apennines, or, more correctly, speaking of the
+Sierra Madre, and the mysterious region known as the Bolson de
+Mapimi, a district in those days as little known as is the Sus
+to-day, a traveller drew near.&nbsp; Checking his horse close by
+the fire, and getting off it gingerly, for it was almost wild,
+holding the hair &ldquo;mecate&rdquo; in his hand, he squatted
+down, the horse snorting and hanging back, and setting rifle and
+&ldquo;machete&rdquo; jingling upon the saddle, he began to
+talk.</p>
+<p><a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+125</span>&ldquo;Ave Maria purisima, had we heard the
+news?&rdquo;&nbsp; What! a new revolution?&nbsp; Had Lerdo de
+Tejada reappeared again? or had Cortinas made another raid on
+Brownsville? the Indios Bravos harried Chihuahua? or had the
+silver &ldquo;conduct&rdquo; coming from the mines been
+robbed?&nbsp; &ldquo;Nothing of this, but a voice ran (corria una
+voz) that the Apache infidels confined in the courtyard of the
+castle of Chapultepec had broken loose.&nbsp; Eight of them, six
+warriors, a woman and a boy, had slipped their fetters, murdered
+two of the guard, and were supposed to be somewhere not far from
+Tula, and, as he thought, making for the Bolson de Mapimi, the
+deserts of the Rio Gila, or the recesses of the mountains of the
+Santa Rosa range.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Needless to say this put all in the meson almost beside
+themselves; for the terror that the Indians inspired was at that
+time so real, that had the eight forlorn and helpless infidels
+appeared I verily believe they would have killed us all.&nbsp;
+Not that we were not brave, well armed&mdash;in fact, all loaded
+down with arms, carrying rifles and pistols, swords stuck between
+our saddle-girths, and generally so fortified as to resemble
+walking arsenals.&nbsp; But valour is a thing of pure convention,
+and these men who would have fought like lions against marauders
+of their own race, scarce slept that night for thinking on the
+dangers which they ran by the reported presence of those six
+naked men.&nbsp; The night passed by without alarm, as was to be
+expected, seeing <a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+126</span>that the courtyard wall of the meson was at least ten
+feet high, and the gate solid &ldquo;ahuehuete&rdquo; clamped
+with iron, and padlocked like a jail.&nbsp; At the first dawn, or
+rather at the first false dawn, when the fallacious streaks of
+pink flash in the sky and fade again to night, all were
+afoot.&nbsp; Horsemen rode out, sitting erect in their peaked
+saddles, toes stuck out and thrust into their curiously stamped
+toe-leathers; their &ldquo;chaparreras&rdquo; giving to their
+legs a look of being cased in armour, their &ldquo;poblano&rdquo;
+hats, with bands of silver or of tinsel, balanced like halos on
+their heads.</p>
+<p>Long trains of donkeys, driven by Indians dressed in leather,
+and bareheaded, after the fashion of their ancestors, crawled
+through the gate laden with &ldquo;pulque,&rdquo; and now and
+then a single Indian followed by his wife set off on foot,
+carrying a crate of earthenware by a broad strap depending from
+his head.&nbsp; Our caravan, consisting of six two-wheeled
+mule-carts, drawn by a team of six or sometimes eight
+gaily-harnessed mules, and covered with a tilt made from the
+&ldquo;istle,&rdquo; creaked through the gate.&nbsp; The great
+meson remained deserted, and by degrees, as a ship leaves the
+coast, we struck into the wild and stony desert country, which,
+covered with a whitish dust of alkali, makes Tula an oasis; then
+the great church sank low, and the tall palm-trees seemed to grow
+shorter; lastly church, palms and towers, and the green fields
+planted with aloes, blended together and <a
+name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 127</span>sank out of
+sight, a faint white misty spot marking their whereabouts, till
+at last it too faded and melted into the level plain.</p>
+<p>Travellers in a perpetual stream we met journeying to Mexico,
+and every now and then passed a straw-thatched
+&ldquo;jacal,&rdquo; where women sat selling &ldquo;atole,&rdquo;
+that is a kind of stirabout of pine-nut meal and milk, and dishes
+seasoned hot with red pepper, with &ldquo;tortillas&rdquo; made
+on the &ldquo;metate&rdquo; of the Aztecs, to serve as bread and
+spoons.&nbsp; The infidels, it seemed, had got ahead of us, and
+when we slept had been descried making towards the north; two of
+them armed with bows which they had roughly made with sticks, the
+string twisted out of &ldquo;istle,&rdquo; and the rest with
+clubs, and what astonished me most was that behind them trotted a
+white dog.&nbsp; Outside San Juan del Rio, which we reached upon
+the second day, it seemed that in the night the homing Mescaleros
+had stolen a horse, and two of them mounting upon him had ridden
+off, leaving the rest of the forlorn and miserable band
+behind.&nbsp; How they had lived so far in the scorched
+alkali-covered plains, how they managed to conceal themselves by
+day, or how they steered by night, no one could tell; for the
+interior Mexican knows nothing of the desert craft, and has no
+idea that there is always food of some kind for an Apache, either
+by digging roots, snaring small animals, or at the last resort by
+catching locusts or any other insect he can find.&nbsp; Nothing
+so easy as to conceal <a name="page128"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 128</span>themselves; for amongst grass eight
+or nine inches high, they drop, and in an instant, even as you
+look, are lost to sight, and if hard pressed sometimes escape
+attention by standing in a cactus grove, and stretching out their
+arms, look so exactly like the plant that you may pass close to
+them and be unaware, till their bow twangs, and an
+obsidian-headed arrow whistles through the air.</p>
+<p>Our caravan rested a day outside San Juan del Rio to shoe the
+mules, repair the harness, and for the muleteers to go to mass or
+visit the &ldquo;poblana&rdquo; girls, who with flowers in their
+hair leaned out of every balcony of the half-Spanish,
+half-Oriental-looking town, according to their taste.&nbsp; Not
+that the halt lost time, for travellers all know that &ldquo;to
+hear mass and to give barley to your beasts loses no tittle of
+the day.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>San Juan, the river almost dry, and trickling thirstily under
+its red stone bridges; the fields of aloes, the poplars, and the
+stunted palms; its winding street in which the houses,
+overhanging, almost touch; its population, which seemed to pass
+their time lounging wrapped in striped blankets up against the
+walls, was left behind.&nbsp; The pulque-aloes and the
+sugar-canes grew scarcer, the road more desolate as we emerged
+into the &ldquo;terra fria&rdquo; of the central plain, and all
+the time the Sierra Madre, jagged and menacing, towered in the
+west.&nbsp; In my mind&rsquo;s eye I saw the Mescaleros trotting
+like wolves all through the night along its base, <a
+name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 129</span>sleeping by
+day in holes, killing a sheep or goat when chance occurred, and
+following one another silent and stoical in their tramp towards
+the north.</p>
+<p>Days followed days as in a ship at sea; the waggons rolling on
+across the plains; and I jogging upon my horse, half sleeping in
+the sun, or stretched at night half dozing on a tilt, almost lost
+count of time.&nbsp; Somewhere between San Juan del Rio and San
+Luis Potosi we learned two of the Indians had been killed, but
+that the four remaining were still pushing onward, and in a
+little while we met a body of armed men carrying two ghastly
+heads tied by their scalp-locks to the saddle-bow.&nbsp; Much did
+the slayers vaunt their prowess; telling how in a wood at break
+of day they had fallen in with all the Indians seated round a
+fire, and that whilst the rest fled, two had sprung on them, as
+they said, &ldquo;after the fashion of wild beasts, armed one
+with a stick, and the other with a stone, and by God&rsquo;s
+grace,&rdquo; and here the leader crossed himself, &ldquo;their
+aim had been successful, and the two sons of dogs had fallen, but
+most unfortunately the rest during the fight had managed to
+escape.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>San Luis Potosi, the rainless city, once world-renowned for
+wealth, and even now full of fine buildings, churches and
+palaces, and with a swarming population of white-clothed Indians
+squatting to sell their trumpery in the great market-square,
+loomed up amongst its fringe of gardens, irrigated lands, its
+groves of pepper-trees, its palms, its <a
+name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 130</span>wealth of
+flowering shrubs; its great white domes, giving an air of Bagdad
+or of Fez, shone in the distance, then grew nearer, and at last
+swallowed us up, as wearily we passed through the outskirts of
+the town, and halted underneath the walls.</p>
+<p>The city, then an oasis in the vast plateau of An&aacute;huac
+(now but a station on a railway-line), a city of enormous
+distances, of gurgling water led in stucco channels by the side
+of every street, of long expanses of &ldquo;adobe&rdquo; walls,
+of immense plazas, of churches and of bells, of countless
+convents; hedged in by mountains to the west, mouth of the
+&ldquo;tierra caliente&rdquo; to the east, and to the north the
+stopping-place for the long trains of waggons carrying cotton
+from the States; wrapped in a mist as of the Middle Ages, lay
+sleeping in the sun.&nbsp; On every side the plain lapped like an
+ocean, and the green vegetation round the town stopped so
+abruptly that you could step almost at once from fertile meadows
+into a waste of whitish alkali.</p>
+<p>Above the town, in a foothill of the Sierra Madre about three
+leagues away, is situated the &ldquo;Enchanted City,&rdquo; never
+yet fouled by the foot of man, but yet existent, and believed in
+by all those who follow that best part of history, the traditions
+which have come down to us from the times when men were wise, and
+when imagination governed judgment, as it should do to-day, being
+the noblest faculty of the human mind.&nbsp; Either want of time,
+or that belittling education from which few can <a
+name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 131</span>escape,
+prevented me from visiting the place.&nbsp; Yet I still think if
+rightly sought the city will be found, and I feel sure the
+Mescaleros passed the night not far from it, and perhaps looking
+down upon San Luis Potosi cursed it, after the fashion that the
+animals may curse mankind for its injustice to them.</p>
+<p>Tired of its squares, its long dark streets, its hum of
+people; and possessed perhaps with that nostalgia of the desert
+which comes so soon to all who once have felt its charm when
+cooped in bricks, we set our faces northward about an hour before
+the day, passed through the gates and rolled into the
+plains.&nbsp; The mules well rested shook their bells, the
+leagues soon dropped behind, the muleteers singing &ldquo;La
+Pasadita,&rdquo; or an interminable song about a
+&ldquo;Gachupin&rdquo; <a name="citation131"></a><a
+href="#footnote131" class="citation">[131]</a> who loved a
+nun.</p>
+<p>The Mescaleros had escaped our thoughts&mdash;that is, the
+muleteers thought nothing of them; but I followed their every
+step, saw them crouched round their little fire, roasting the
+roots of wild &ldquo;mescal&rdquo;; marked them upon the march in
+single file, their eyes fixed on the plain, watchful and silent
+as they were phantoms gliding to the north.</p>
+<p>Crossing a sandy tract, the Capataz, who had long lived in the
+&ldquo;Pimeria Alta,&rdquo; and amongst the Maricopas on the
+Gila, drew up his horse and <a name="page132"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 132</span>pointing to the ground said,
+&ldquo;Viva Mexico!&mdash;look at these footmarks in the
+sand.&nbsp; They are the infidels; see where the men have trod;
+here is the woman&rsquo;s print and this the boy&rsquo;s.&nbsp;
+Look how their toes are all turned in, unlike the tracks of
+Christians.&nbsp; This trail is a day old, and yet how
+fresh!&nbsp; See where the boy has stumbled&mdash;thanks to the
+Blessed Virgin they must all be tired, and praise to God will die
+upon the road, either by hunger or some Christian
+hand.&rdquo;&nbsp; All that he spoke of was no doubt visible to
+him, but through my want of faith, or perhaps lack of experience,
+I saw but a faint trace of naked footsteps in the sand.&nbsp;
+Such as they were, they seemed the shadow of a ghost, unstable
+and unreal, and struck me after the fashion that it strikes one
+when a man holds up a cane and tells you gravely, without a
+glimmering of the strangeness of the fact, that it came from
+Japan, actually grew there, and had leaves and roots, and was as
+little thought of as a mere ash-plant growing in a copse.</p>
+<p>At an &ldquo;hacienda&rdquo; upon the road, just where the
+trail leads off upon one hand to Matehuala, and on the other to
+Rio Verde, and the hot countries of the coast, we stopped to pass
+the hottest hours in sleep.&nbsp; All was excitement; men came
+in, their horses flecked with foam; others were mounting, and all
+armed to the teeth, as if the Yankees had crossed the Rio Grande,
+and were marching on the place.&nbsp; &ldquo;Los Indios! si,
+se&ntilde;or,&rdquo; they had been <a name="page133"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 133</span>seen, only last night, but such the
+valour of the people of the place, they had passed on doing no
+further damage than to kill a lamb.&nbsp; No chance of sleep in
+such a turmoil of alarm; each man had his own plan, all talked at
+once, most of them were half drunk, and when our Capataz asked
+dryly if they had thought of following the trail, a silence fell
+on all.&nbsp; By this time, owing to the horsemen galloping
+about, the trail was cut on every side, and to have followed it
+would have tried the skill of an Apache tracker; but just then
+upon the plain a cloud of dust was seen.&nbsp; Nearer it came,
+and then out of the midst of it horses appeared, arms flashed,
+and when nearing the place five or six men galloped up to the
+walls, and stopped their horses with a jerk.&nbsp; &ldquo;What
+news? have you seen anything of the Apaches?&rdquo; and the chief
+rider of the gallant band, getting off slowly, and fastening up
+his horse, said, with an air of dignity, &ldquo;At the
+&lsquo;encrucijada,&rsquo; four leagues along the road, you will
+find one of them.&nbsp; We came upon him sitting on a stone, too
+tired to move, called on him to surrender, but Indians have no
+sense, so he came at us tired as he was, and we, being valiant,
+fired, and he fell dead.&nbsp; Then, that the law should be made
+manifest to all, we hung his body by the feet to a
+huisach&eacute; tree.&rdquo;&nbsp; Then compliments broke out and
+&ldquo;Viva los valientes!&rdquo; &ldquo;Viva Mexico!&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Mueran los Indios salvajes!&rdquo; and much of the same
+sort, whilst the five valiant men modestly took a drink, saying
+<a name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>but
+little, for true courage does not show itself in talk.</p>
+<p>Leaving the noisy crew drinking confusion to their enemies, we
+rolled into the plain.&nbsp; Four dusty leagues, and the
+huisach&eacute; tree growing by four cross trails came into
+sight.&nbsp; We neared it, and to a branch, naked except his
+breech-clout, covered with bullet-wounds, we saw the Indian
+hang.&nbsp; Half-starved he looked, and so reduced that from the
+bullet-holes but little blood had run; his feet were bloody, and
+his face hanging an inch or two above the ground distorted; flies
+buzzed about him, and in the sky a faint black line on the
+horizon showed that the vultures had already scented food.</p>
+<p>We left the nameless warrior hanging on his tree, and took our
+way across the plain, well pleased both with the
+&ldquo;valour&rdquo; of his slayers and the position of affairs
+in general in the world at large.&nbsp; Right up and down the Rio
+Grande on both sides for almost a thousand miles the lonely cross
+upon some river-side, near to some thicket, or out in the wide
+plain, most generally is lettered &ldquo;Killed by the
+Apaches,&rdquo; and in the game they played so long, and still
+held trumps in at the time I write of, they, too, paid for all
+errors, in their play, by death.&nbsp; But still it seemed a
+pity, savage as they were, that so much cunning, such stoical
+indifference to both death and life, should always finish as the
+warrior whom I saw hang by the feet from the <a
+name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+135</span>huisach&eacute;, just where the road to Matehuala
+bifurcates, and the trail breaks off to El Jarral.&nbsp; And so
+we took our road, passed La Parida, Matehuala, El Catorce, and
+still the sterile plateau spread out like a vast sea, the sparse
+and stunted bushes in the constant mirage looming at times like
+trees, at others seeming just to float above the sand; and as we
+rolled along, the mules struggling and straining in the whitish
+dust, we seemed to lose all trace of the Apaches; and at the lone
+hacienda or rare villages no one had heard of them, and the
+mysterious hegira of the party, now reduced to three, left no
+more traces of its passing than water which has closed upon the
+passage of a fish.</p>
+<p>Gomez Farias, Parras, El Llano de la Guerra, we passed
+alternately, and at length Saltillo came in sight, its towers
+standing up upon the plain after the fashion of a lighthouse in
+the sea; the bull-ring built under the Viceroys looking like a
+fort; and then the plateau of An&aacute;huac finished abruptly,
+and from the ramparts of the willow-shaded town the great green
+plains stretched out towards Texas in a vast panorama; whilst
+upon the west in the dim distance frowned the serrated mountains
+of Santa Rosa, and further still the impenetrable fastnesses of
+the Bolson de Mapimi.</p>
+<p>Next day we took the road for Monterey, descending in a day by
+the rough path known as &ldquo;la cuesta de los fierros,&rdquo;
+from the cold plateau to a land of palms, of cultivation,
+orange-groves, of <a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+136</span>fruit-trees, olive-gardens, a balmy air filled with the
+noise of running waters; and passing underneath the Cerro de la
+Silla which dominates the town, slept peacefully far from all
+thoughts of Indians and of perils of the road, in the great
+caravansary which at that time was the chief glory of the town of
+Monterey.&nbsp; The city with its shady streets, its alameda
+planted with palm-trees, and its plaza all decorated with
+stuccoed plaster seats painted pale pink, and upon which during
+both day and night half of the population seemed to lounge, lay
+baking in the sun.</p>
+<p>Great teams of waggons driven by Texans creaked through the
+streets, the drivers dressed in a &ldquo;d&eacute;froque&rdquo;
+of old town clothes, often a worn frock-coat and rusty trousers
+stuffed into cowboy boots, the whole crowned with an ignominious
+battered hat, and looking, as the Mexicans observed, like
+&ldquo;pantomimas, que salen en las fiestas.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Mexicans from down the coast, from Tamaulipas, Tuxpan, Vera Cruz
+and Guatzecoalcos ambled along on horses all ablaze with silver;
+and to complete the picture, a tribe of Indians, the Kickopoos,
+who had migrated from the north, and who occasionally rode
+through the town in single file, their rifles in their hands, and
+looking at the shops half longingly, half frightened, passed
+along without a word.</p>
+<p>But all the varied peoples, the curious half-wild,
+half-patriarchal life, the fruits and flowers, the <a
+name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 137</span>strangeness
+of the place, could not divert my thoughts from the three lone
+pathetic figures, followed by their dog, which in my mind&rsquo;s
+eye I saw making northward, as a wild goose finds its path in
+spring, leaving no traces of its passage by the way.&nbsp; I
+wondered what they thought of, how they looked upon the world, if
+they respected all they saw of civilized communities upon their
+way, or whether they pursued their journey like a horse let loose
+returning to his birthplace, anxious alone about arriving at the
+goal.&nbsp; So Monterey became a memory; the Cerro de la Silla
+last vanishing, when full five leagues upon the road.&nbsp; The
+dusty plains all white with alkali, the grey-green sage-bushes,
+the salt and crystal-looking rivers, the Indians bending under
+burdens, and the women sitting at the cross roads selling
+tortillas&mdash;all now had changed.&nbsp; Through oceans of tall
+grass, by muddy rivers in which alligators basked, by
+&ldquo;bayous,&rdquo; &ldquo;resacas,&rdquo; and by
+&ldquo;bottoms&rdquo; of alluvial soil, in which grew
+cotton-woods, black-jack, and post-oak, with gigantic willows;
+through countless herds of half-wild horses, lighting the
+landscape with their colours, and through a rolling prairie with
+vast horizons bounded by faint blue mountain chains, we took our
+way.&nbsp; Out of the thickets of &ldquo;mezquite&rdquo; wild
+boars peered upon the path; rattlesnakes sounded their note of
+warning or lay basking in the sun; at times an antelope bounded
+across our track, and the rare villages were fortified <a
+name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 138</span>with high
+mud walls, had gates, and sometimes drawbridges, for all the
+country we were passing through was subject to invasions of
+&ldquo;los Indios Bravos,&rdquo; and no one rode a mile without
+the chance of an attack.&nbsp; When travellers met they zigzagged
+to and fro like battleships in the old days striving to get the
+&ldquo;weather gauge,&rdquo; holding their horses tightly by the
+head, and interchanging salutations fifty yards away, though if
+they happened to be Texans and Mexicans they only glared, or
+perhaps yelled an obscenity at one another in their different
+tongues.&nbsp; Advertisements upon the trees informed the
+traveller that the place to stop at was the &ldquo;Old Buffalo
+Camp&rdquo; in San Antonio, setting forth its whisky, its perfect
+safety both for man and beast, and adding curtly it was only a
+short four hundred miles away.&nbsp; Here for the first time in
+our journey we sent out a rider about half-a-mile ahead to scan
+the route, ascend the little hills, keep a sharp eye on
+&ldquo;Indian sign,&rdquo; and give us warning by a timely shot,
+all to dismount, &ldquo;corral&rdquo; the waggons, and be
+prepared for an attack of Indians, or of the roaming bands of
+rascals who like pirates wandered on the plains.&nbsp; Dust made
+us anxious, and smoke ascending in the distance set us all
+wondering if it was Indians, or a shepherd&rsquo;s fire; at
+halting time no one strayed far from camp, and we sat eating with
+our rifles by our sides, whilst men on horseback rode round the
+mules, keeping them well in sight, as shepherds watch their
+sheep.&nbsp; <a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+139</span>About two leagues from Juarez a traveller bloody with
+spurring passed us carrying something in his hand; he stopped and
+held out a long arrow with an obsidian head, painted in various
+colours, and feathered in a peculiar way.&nbsp; A consultation
+found it to be &ldquo;Apache,&rdquo; and the man galloped on to
+take it to the governor of the place to tell him Indians were
+about, or, as he shouted (following the old Spanish catchword),
+&ldquo;there were Moors upon the coast.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Juarez we slept at, quite secure within the walls; started at
+daybreak, crossing the swiftly-running river just outside the
+town, at the first streak of light; journeyed all day, still
+hearing nothing of the retreating Mescaleros, and before evening
+reached Las Navas, which we found astir, all lighted up, and
+knots of people talking excitedly, whilst in the plaza the whole
+population seemed to be afoot.&nbsp; At the long wooden tables
+set about with lights, where in a Mexican town at sundown an al
+fresco meal of kid stewed in red pepper, &ldquo;tamales&rdquo;
+and &ldquo;tortillas,&rdquo; is always laid, the talk was
+furious, and each man gave his opinion at the same time, after
+the fashion of the Russian Mir, or as it may be that we shall yet
+see done during debates in Parliament, so that all men may have a
+chance to speak, and yet escape the ignominy of their words being
+caught, set down, and used against them, after the present
+plan.&nbsp; The Mescaleros had been seen passing about a league
+outside <a name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+140</span>the town.&nbsp; A shepherd lying hidden, watching his
+sheep, armed with a rifle, had spied them, and reported that they
+had passed close to him; the woman coming last and carrying in
+her arms a little dog; and he &ldquo;thanked God and all His holy
+saints who had miraculously preserved his life.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+After the shepherd&rsquo;s story, in the afternoon firing had
+been distinctly heard towards the small rancho of Las Crucecitas,
+which lay about three leagues further on upon the road.&nbsp; All
+night the din of talk went on, and in the morning when we started
+on our way, full half the population went with us to the gate,
+all giving good advice; to keep a good look-out, if we saw dust
+to be certain it was Indians driving the horses stolen from Las
+Crucecitas, then to get off at once, corral the waggons, and
+above all to put our trust in God.&nbsp; This we agreed to do,
+but wondered why out of so many valiant men not one of them
+proffered assistance, or volunteered to mount his horse and ride
+with us along the dangerous way.</p>
+<p>The road led upwards towards some foothills, set about with
+scrubby palms; not fifteen miles away rose the dark mountains of
+the Santa Rosa chain, and on a little hill the rancho stood,
+flat-roofed and white, and seemingly not more than a short league
+away, so clear the light, and so immense the scale of everything
+upon the rolling plain.&nbsp; I knew that in the mountains the
+three Indians were safe, as the whole range was Indian territory;
+and as I <a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+141</span>saw them struggling up the slopes, the little dog
+following them footsore, hanging down its head, or carried as the
+shepherd said in the &ldquo;she-devil&rsquo;s&rdquo; arms, I
+wished them luck after their hegira, planned with such courage,
+carried out so well, had ended, and they were back again amongst
+the tribe.</p>
+<p>Just outside Crucecitas we met a Texan who, as he told us,
+owned the place, and lived in &ldquo;kornkewbinage with a native
+gal,&rdquo; called, as he said, &ldquo;Pastory,&rdquo; who it
+appeared of all the females he had ever met was the best hand to
+bake &ldquo;tortillers,&rdquo; and whom, had she not been a
+Catholic, he would have made his wife.&nbsp; All this without a
+question on our part, and sitting sideways on his horse, scanning
+the country from the corner of his eye.&nbsp; He told us that he
+had &ldquo;had right smart of an Indian trouble here yesterday
+just about afternoon.&nbsp; Me and my &lsquo;vaquerys&rsquo; were
+around looking for an estray horse, just six of us, when close to
+the ranch we popped kermash right upon three red devils, and
+opened fire at once.&nbsp; I hed a Winchester, and at the first
+fire tumbled the buck; he fell right in his tracks, and jest as I
+was taking off his scalp, I&rsquo;m doggoned if the squaw and the
+young devil didn&rsquo;t come at us jest like grizzly bars.&nbsp;
+Wal, yes, killed &rsquo;em, o&rsquo; course, and anyhow the young
+&rsquo;un would have growed up; but the squaw I&rsquo;me sort of
+sorry about.&nbsp; I never could bear to kill a <a
+name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 142</span>squaw,
+though I&rsquo;ve often seen it done.&nbsp; Naow here&rsquo;s the
+all-firedest thing yer ever heard; jes&rsquo; as I was turning
+the bodies over with my foot a little Indian dog flies at us like
+a &lsquo;painter,&rsquo; the varmint, the condemndest little
+buffler I ever struck.&nbsp; I was for shootin&rsquo; him, but
+&lsquo;Pastory&rsquo;&mdash;that&rsquo;s my
+&lsquo;kornkewbyne&rsquo;&mdash;she up and says it was a
+shame.&nbsp; Wal, we had to bury them, for dead Injun stinks
+worst than turkey-buzzard, and the dodgasted little dog is
+sitting on the grave, &rsquo;pears like he&rsquo;s froze,
+leastwise he hastn&rsquo;t moved since sun-up, when we planted
+the whole crew.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Under a palm-tree not far from the house the Indians&rsquo;
+grave was dug, upon it, wretched and draggled, sat the little
+dog.&nbsp; &ldquo;Pastory&rdquo; tried to catch it all day long,
+being kind-hearted though a &ldquo;kornkewbyne&rdquo;; but,
+failing, said &ldquo;God was not willing,&rdquo; and retired into
+the house.&nbsp; The hours seemed days in the accursed place till
+the sun rose, gilding the unreached Santa Rosa mountains, and
+bringing joy into the world.&nbsp; We harnessed up the mules, and
+started silently out on the lonely road; turning, I checked my
+horse, and began moralizing on all kinds of things; upon tenacity
+of purpose, the futility of life, and the inexorable fate which
+mocks mankind, making all effort useless, whilst still urging us
+to strive.&nbsp; Then the grass rustled, and across an open space
+a small white object trotted, looking furtively around, threw <a
+name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 143</span>up its head
+and howled, ran to and fro as if it sought for something, howled
+dismally again, and after scratching in the ground, squatted
+dejectedly on the fresh-turned-up earth which marked the
+Indians&rsquo; grave.</p>
+<h2><a name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>SIDI
+BU ZIBBALA</h2>
+<p><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span><span
+class="smcap">Religious</span> persecution with isolation from
+the world, complete as if the Lebanon were an atoll island in the
+Paumotus group; a thousand years of slavery, and centuries
+innumerable of traditions of a proud past, the whole well
+filtered through the curriculum of an American missionary
+college, had made Maron Mohanna the strange compound that he
+was.&nbsp; Summer and winter dressed in a greasy black
+frock-coat, hat tilted on his head, as if it had been a fez;
+dilapidated white-topped mother-of-pearl bebuttoned boots, a
+shirt which seemed to come as dirty from the wash as it went
+there; his shoulders sloping and his back bent in a perpetual
+squirm, Mohanna shuffled through the world with the exterior of a
+pimp, but yet with certain aspirations towards a wild life which
+seldom are entirely absent from any member of the Arab
+race.&nbsp; So in his village of the Lebanon he grew to
+man&rsquo;s estate, and drifted after the fashion of his
+countrymen into a precarious business in the East.&nbsp; Half
+proxenete, half dragoman, servile to all above him and civil for
+prudence&rsquo; sake to all below, he passed through the various
+degrees of hotel tout, seller of <a name="page148"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 148</span>cigarettes, and guide to the
+antiquities of whatever town he happened to reside in, to the
+full glory of a shop in which he sold embroideries, attar of
+roses, embroidered slippers and all the varied trash which
+tourists buy in the bazaars of the Levant.&nbsp; But all the
+time, and whilst he studied French and English with a view to
+self-advancement, the ancient glories of the Arab race were
+always in his mind.&nbsp; Himself a Christian of the Christians,
+reared in that hotbed of theology the Lebanon, where all the
+creeds mutually show their hatred of each other, and display
+themselves in their most odious aspects; and whilst hating the
+Mohammedans as a first principle of his belief, he found himself
+mysteriously attracted to their creed.&nbsp; Not that his reason
+was seduced by the teachings of the Koran, but that somehow the
+stately folly of the whole scheme of life evolved by the
+ex-camel-driver appealed to him, as it has oftentimes appealed to
+stronger minds than his.&nbsp; The call to prayers, the
+half-contemplative, half-militant existence led by Mohammedans;
+the immense simplicity of their hegemony; the idea of a not
+impossible one God, beyond men&rsquo;s ken, looking down frostily
+through the stars upon the plains, a Being to be evoked without
+much hope of being influenced, took hold of him and set him
+thinking whether all members of the Arab race ought not to hold
+one faith.&nbsp; And in addition to his speculations upon faith
+and race, vaguely at times it crossed his mind, as I <a
+name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 149</span>believe it
+often crosses the minds of almost every Arab (and Syrians not a
+few), &ldquo;If all else fail, I can retire into the desert, join
+the tribes and pass a pleasant life, sure of a wife or two, a
+horse, a lance, a long flint gun, a bowl of camel&rsquo;s milk,
+and a black tent in which to rest at night.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Little indeed are the chances of a young educated Syrian to
+make his living in the Lebanon.&nbsp; A certain modicum of the
+young men is always absorbed into the ranks of the various true
+faiths which send out missionaries to convert Arab-speaking
+races, and those so absorbed generally pass their lives preaching
+shamefacedly that which they partially believe, to those whose
+faith is fixed.&nbsp; Others again gravitate naturally to Cairo
+to seek for Government employment, or to write in the Arabic
+press, taking sides for England or for France, as the editors of
+the opposing papers make it worth their while.&nbsp; But the
+great bulk of the intellectual Syrian proletariat emigrates to
+New York and there lives in a quarter by itself, engaging in all
+kinds of little industries, dealing in Oriental curiosities, or
+publishing newspapers in the Arab tongue.&nbsp; There they pass
+much of their time lounging at their shop-doors with slippers
+down at heel, in smoking cigarettes, in drinking arrack, and in
+speculating when their native country shall be free.</p>
+<p>To none of these well-recognized careers did Maron Mohanna
+feel himself impelled.&nbsp; Soon tiring of his shop he went to
+Egypt, worked on a <a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+150</span>newspaper, and then became a teacher of Arabic to
+Europeans; was taken by one of them to London, where he passed
+some years earning a threadbare livelihood by translating Arabic
+documents and writing for the press.&nbsp; When out of work he
+tramped about the streets to cheat his hunger, and if in funds
+frequented music-halls, and lavished his hard-earned money on the
+houris who frequent such places, describing them as &ldquo;fine
+and tall, too fond of drink, and perhaps colder in the blood than
+are the women of the East.&rdquo;&nbsp; Not often did his
+fortunes permit him such extravagances, and he began to pass his
+life hanging about the City in the wake of the impossible gang of
+small company-promoters, who in the purlieus of the financial
+world weave shoddy Utopias, and are the cause of much vain labour
+to postmen and some annoyance to the public, but who as far as I
+can see live chiefly upon hope deferred, for their prospectuses
+seem to be generally cast into the basket, from which no share
+list ever has returned.&nbsp; But in the darkest of poor Maron
+Mohanna&rsquo;s blackest days, his dreams about the Arab race
+never forsook him, and he studied much to master all the
+subtleties of his native tongue, talking with Arabs, Easterns,
+Persians, and the like in the lunch-room of the British Museum,
+where scholars of all nations, blear-eyed and bent, eat sawdust
+sandwiches and drink lemonade, whilst wearing out their eyes and
+lives for pittances which a dock labourer would <a
+name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 151</span>turn from
+in disgust.&nbsp; Much did the shivering Easterns confabulate,
+much did they talk of grammar, of niceties of diction, much did
+they dispute, often they talked of women, sometimes of horses,
+for on both all Easterns, no matter how they pass their lives,
+have much to say, and what they say is often worth attention, for
+in both matters their ancestors were learned when ours rode
+shaggy ponies, and their one miserable wife wrestled with fifteen
+fair-haired children in the damp forests where the Briton was
+evolved.&nbsp; How long Maron Mohanna dwelt in London is matter
+of uncertainty, to what abyss of poverty he fell, or if in the
+worst times he tramped the Embankment, sleeping on a bench and
+dreaming ever of the future of the Arab race, is not set
+down.&nbsp; The next act of his life finds him the trusted
+manager of the West African Company at Cape Juby.&nbsp; There he
+enjoyed a salary duly paid every quarter, and was treated with
+much deference by the employees as being the only man the company
+employed who could speak Arabic.&nbsp; Report avers he had
+embraced either the Wesleyan or the Baptist faith, as the chief
+shareholders of the affair were Nonconformists, whose ancestors
+having (as they alleged) enjoyed much persecution for their
+faith, were well resolved that every one who came within their
+power should outwardly, at least, conform to their own tenets in
+dogma and church government.</p>
+<p>Established at Cape Juby, Maron Mohanna for <a
+name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 152</span>the first
+time enjoyed consideration, and for a while the world went well
+with him.&nbsp; He duly wrote reports, inspected goods, watched
+the arrival of the <i>Sahara</i>, the schooner which came once a
+month from Lanzarote, and generally endeavoured to discharge the
+duties of a manager, with some success.&nbsp; The chiefs
+Mohammed-wold-el-Biruc and Bu-Dabous, with others from the
+far-distant districts of El Juf, El Hodh, and from Tishit, all
+flattered him, offering him women from their various tribes and
+telling him that he too was of their blood.&nbsp; So by degrees
+either the affinity of race, the community of language or the
+provoking commonness of his European comrades, drew him to seek
+his most congenial friends amongst the natives of the
+place.&nbsp; Then came the woman: the woman who always creeps
+into the life of man as the snake crept into the garden by the
+Euphrates; and Mohanna knowing that by so doing he forfeited all
+chance of his career, gave up his post, married an Arab girl, and
+became a desert Arab, living on dates and camel&rsquo;s milk in
+the black Bedouin tents.&nbsp; Children he had, to whom, though
+desert-born, he gave the names of Christians, feeling perhaps the
+nostalgia of civilization in the wilds, as he had felt before the
+nostalgia of the desert, in his blood.&nbsp; And living in the
+desert with his hair grown long, dressed in the blue
+&ldquo;baft&rdquo; clothes, a spear in his hand and shod with
+sandals, he yet looked like a European clerk in masquerade.</p>
+<p><a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>The
+bushy plains stretched like an ocean towards the mysterious
+regions of El Juf and Timbuctoo, Wadan, Tijigja, Atar and
+Shingiet, and the wild steppes where the Tuaregs veiled to the
+eyes roam as they roamed before they hastened to the call of
+Jusuf-ibn Tachfin to invade El Andalos and lose the battle at Las
+Navas de Tolosa: the battle where San Isidro in a
+shepherd&rsquo;s guise guided the Christian host.&nbsp; Men came
+and went, on camels, horses, donkeys and on foot; all armed, all
+beggars, from the rich chief to the poorest horseman of the
+tribe; and yet all dignified, draped in their fluttering rags,
+and looking more like men than those whom eighteen centuries of
+civilization and of trade have turned to apes.&nbsp; Men fought,
+careering on their horses on the sand, firing their guns and
+circling round like gulls, shouting their battle-cries; men
+prayed, turning to Mecca at the appointed hours; men sat for
+hours half in a dream thinking of much or nothing, who can say;
+whilst women in the tents milked camels, wove the curious
+geometric-patterned carpets which they use, and children grew up
+straight, active and as fleet of foot as roe.</p>
+<p>Inside the factory the European clerks smoked, drank, and
+played at cards: they learned no Arabic, for why should those who
+speak bad English struggle with other tongues?&nbsp; Meanwhile
+the time slipped past, leaving as little trace as does a jackal
+when on a windy day he sneaks across the sand.&nbsp; Only Maron
+Mohanna seemed to have no place in the <a
+name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 154</span>desert
+world which he had dreamed of as a boy; and in the world of
+Europe typified by the factory on the beach his place was
+lost.&nbsp; On marrying he had, of course, abjured the faith
+implanted in him in the Lebanon, and yet though now one of the
+&ldquo;faithful&rdquo; he found no resting-place.&nbsp; Neither
+of the two contending faiths had sunk much into his soul, but
+still at times he saw that the best part of any faith is but the
+life it brings.&nbsp; For him, though he had dreamed of it, the
+wild desert life held little charm; horses he loathed, suffering
+acutely when on their backs, and roaming after chance gazelles or
+ostriches with the horsemen of the tribe did not amuse him; but
+though too proud to change his faith again, at times he caught
+himself longing for his once-loathed shop in the Levant.&nbsp; So
+that clandestinely he grew to haunt the factory and the fort, as
+before, in secret, he had hung round the straw-thatched mosque,
+and loitered in the tents.&nbsp; His one amusement was to
+practise with a pistol at a mark, and by degrees he taught his
+wife to shoot, till she became a marksman able to throw an orange
+in the air and hit it with a pistol bullet three times out of
+five.&nbsp; But even pistol-shooting palled on his soul at last,
+and he grew desperate, not being allowed to leave the tribe or go
+into the fort except in company with others, and keenly watched
+as those who change their faith and turn Mohammedans are ever
+watched amongst the Arab race.&nbsp; But in his darkest hour fate
+smiled upon him, and <a name="page155"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 155</span>the head chief wanting an agent in
+the islands sent him to Lanzarote, and in the little town of
+Arrecife it seemed to him that he had found a resting-place at
+last.&nbsp; Once more he dressed himself in European clothes, he
+handled goods, saw now and then a Spanish newspaper a fortnight
+old; talked much of politics, lounged in the Alameda, and was the
+subject of much curiosity amongst the simple dwellers in the
+little town.&nbsp; Some said he had denied his God amongst the
+heathen; others again that he suffered much for conscience&rsquo;
+sake; whilst he attended mass occasionally, going with a sense of
+doing something wrong, and feeling more enjoyment in the service
+than in the days of his belief.&nbsp; His wife dressed in the
+Spanish fashion, wore a mantilla, sometimes indeed a hat, and
+looked not much unlike an island woman, and was believed by all
+to have thrown off the errors of her faith and come into the
+fold.</p>
+<p>But notwithstanding all the amenities of the island life, the
+unlimited opportunities for endless talk (so dear to Syrians),
+the half-malignant pleasure he experienced in dressing up his
+wife in Christian guise, sending for monstrous hats bedecked with
+paroquets from Cadiz, and gowns of the impossible shades of
+apple-green and yellow which in those days were sent from Paris
+to Spain and to her colonies, he yet was dull.&nbsp; And
+curiously enough, now that he was a double renegade his youthful
+dreams haunted him once again.&nbsp; He saw himself <a
+name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 156</span>(in his
+mind&rsquo;s eye) mounted upon his horse, flying across the
+sands, and stealthily and half ashamed he used to dress himself
+in the Arab clothes and sit for hours studying the Koran, not
+that he believed its teachings, but that the phraseology
+enchanted him, as it has always, both in the present and the
+past, bewitched all Arabs, and perhaps in his case it spoke to
+him of the illusory content which in the desert life he sought,
+but had not found.</p>
+<p>He read the &ldquo;Tarik-es-Sudan,&rdquo; and learned that
+Allah marks even the lives of locusts, and that a single pearl
+does not remain on earth by him unweighed.&nbsp; The Djana of
+Essoyuti, El Ibtihaj, and the scarce &ldquo;Choice of
+Marvels&rdquo; written in far Mossul by the learned Abu Abdallah
+ibn Abderrahim (he of Granada in the Andalos), he read; and as he
+read his love renewed itself for the old race whose blood ran in
+his veins.&nbsp; He read and dreamed, and twice a renegade in
+practice, yet remained a true believer in the aspirations of his
+youth.&nbsp; He sailed in schooners, running from island port to
+island port down the trade winds; landed at little towns, and
+hardly marked the people in the rocky streets, Spanish in
+language, and in type quite Guanche, and but a step more
+civilized than the wild tribesmen from the coast that he had
+left.&nbsp; Then thinking maybe of his sojourn in London, and its
+music-halls, frequented uninterestedly the house of Rita, Rita la
+Jerezana; sat in the courtyard under the fig-tree with its trunk
+coated with <a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+157</span>white-wash, and listened to the &ldquo;Cante
+Hondo,&rdquo; saw the girls dance Sevillanas; and drinking
+zarzaparilla syrup, learned that of all the countries in the
+world Spain is the richest, for there even the &ldquo;women of
+the life&rdquo; cast their accounts in ounces.</p>
+<p>Then growing weary of their chatter and their tales of woe,
+each one of them being, according to herself, fallen from some
+high estate, he wandered to the convent of the Franciscan
+friars.&nbsp; They saw a convert in him, and put out all their
+theologic powers; displayed, as they know how, the human aspect
+of their faith, keeping the dogma out of sight; for well they
+knew, in vain the net is spread in the sight of any man, if the
+fires of hell are to be clearly seen.&nbsp; Long hours Mohanna
+talked with them, enjoying argument for its own sake after the
+Scottish and the Eastern way; the friars were mystified at the
+small progress that they made, but said the renegade spoke
+&ldquo;as he had a nest of nightingales all singing in his
+mouth.&rdquo;&nbsp; And all the time his wife, an Arab of the
+Arabs, sighed for the desert, in her Spanish clothes.&nbsp; The
+&ldquo;Velo de toalla&rdquo; and the high-heeled shoes, the pomps
+and miseries of stays, and all the circumstance and starch of
+European dress, did not console her for the loss of the black
+tents, the familiar camels kneeling in the sand, the goats
+skipping about the &ldquo;sudra&rdquo; bushes; and the church
+bells made her but long more keenly for the call to prayers,
+rising at evening from the straw-thatched mosque.&nbsp; Her <a
+name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 158</span>children,
+left with the tribe, called to her from the desert, and she too
+found neither resting-place nor rest in the quiet island
+life.</p>
+<p>At last Maron Mohanna turned again to trade, and entered into
+partnership with one Benito Florez; bought a schooner, and came
+and went between the islands and the coast.&nbsp; All things went
+well with him, and in the little island town &ldquo;el
+renegado&rdquo; rose to be quite a prosperous citizen, till on a
+day he and his partner quarrelled and went to law.&nbsp; The law
+in every country favours a man born in the land against a
+foreigner; and the partnership broke up, leaving Mohanna almost
+penniless.&nbsp; Whether one of those sudden furies which possess
+the Arabs, turning them in a moment and without warning from
+sedate well-mannered men to raving maniacs frothing at the mouth,
+came over him, he never told; but what is certain is that, having
+failed to slay his partner, he with his wife went off by night to
+where his schooner lay, and instantly induced his men to put to
+sea, and sailed towards the coast.&nbsp; Mohanna drew a perhaps
+judicious veil of mystery over what happened on his arrival at
+the inlet where his wife&rsquo;s tribe happened to be
+encamped.&nbsp; One of the islanders either objecting to the
+looting of the schooner upon principle, or perhaps because his
+share of loot was insufficient, got himself killed; but what is a
+&ldquo;Charuta&rdquo; more or less, except perhaps to his wife
+and family in Arrecife or in some little dusty town <a
+name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>in Pico or
+Gomera?&nbsp; Those who assented or were too frightened to
+protest found themselves unmolested, and at liberty to take the
+schooner back.&nbsp; Maron Mohanna and his wife, taking the boat
+rowed by some Arabs, made for the shore, and what ensued he
+subsequently related to a friend.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When we get near the shore my wife she throw her
+hat.&rdquo;&nbsp; One sees the hideous Cadiz hat floating upon
+the surf, draggled and miserable, and its bunch of artificial
+fruit, of flowers or feathers, bobbing about upon the backwash of
+the waves.&nbsp; &ldquo;She throw her boots, and then she take
+off all her clothes I got from Seville, cost me more than a
+hundred &lsquo;real&rsquo;; she throw her parasol, and it float
+in the water like a buoy, and make me mad.&nbsp; I pay more than
+ten real for it.&nbsp; After all things was gone she wrap herself
+in Arab sheet and step ashore just like an Arab girl, and all the
+clothes I brought from Cadiz, cost more than a hundred real, all
+was lost.&rdquo;&nbsp; What happened after their landing is
+matter of uncertainty.&nbsp; Whether Mohanna found his children
+growing up semi-savages, whether his wife having thus sacrificed
+to the Graces, and made a holocaust of all her Cadiz clothes,
+regretted them, and sitting by the beach fished for them sadly
+with a cane, no man can tell.</p>
+<p>Years passed away, and a certain English consul in Morocco
+travelling to the Court stopped at a little town.&nbsp; Rivers
+had risen, tribes had cut the road, our Lord the Sultan with his
+camp was on a <a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+160</span>journey and had eaten up the food upon the usual road,
+or some one or another of the incidents of flood or field which
+render travel in Morocco interesting had happened.&nbsp; The town
+lay off the beaten track close to the territory of a half-wild
+tribe.&nbsp; Therefore upon arrival at the place the consul found
+himself received with scowling looks; no one proceeded to
+hostilities, but he remained within his tent, unvisited but by a
+soldier sent from the Governor to ask whether the Kaffir, son of
+a Kaffir, wished for anything.&nbsp; People sat staring at him,
+motionless except their eyes; children holding each other&rsquo;s
+hands stood at a safe distance from his tent, and stared for
+hours at him, and he remarked the place where he was asked to
+camp was near a mound which from time immemorial seemed to have
+been the common dunghill of the town.&nbsp; The night passed
+miserably, the guards sent by the Governor shouting aloud at
+intervals to show their vigilance, banished all chance of
+sleep.</p>
+<p>Cursing the place, at break of day the consul struck his camp,
+mounted his horse, and started, leaving the sullen little town
+all wrapped in sleep.&nbsp; But as he jogged along disconsolately
+behind his mules, passing an angle of the &ldquo;Kasbah&rdquo;
+wall, a figure, rising as it seemed out of the dunghill&rsquo;s
+depths, advanced and stood before him in the middle of the
+way.&nbsp; Its hair was long and matted and its beard ropy and
+grizzled, and for sole covering it had a sack tied round its
+waist with a string <a name="page161"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 161</span>of camel&rsquo;s hair; and as the
+consul feeling in his purse was just about, in the English
+fashion, to bestow his alms to rid himself of trouble, it
+addressed him in his native tongue.&nbsp; &ldquo;Good-morning,
+consul, how goes the world with you?&nbsp; You&rsquo;re the first
+Christian I have seen for years.&nbsp; My name was once Mohanna,
+now I am Sidi bu Zibbala, the Father of the Dunghill.&nbsp; Your
+poet Shakespeare say that all the world&rsquo;s a stage, but he
+was Englishman.&nbsp; I, Syrian, I say all the world
+dunghill.&nbsp; I try him, Syria, England, the Desert, and New
+York; I find him dung, so I come here and live here on this
+dunghill, and find it sweet when compared to places I have seen;
+and it is warm and dry.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He ceased; and then the consul, feeling his words an outrage
+upon progress and on his official status, muttered &ldquo;Queer
+kind of fish,&rdquo; and jerking at his horse&rsquo;s bridle,
+proceeded doggedly upon his way.</p>
+<h2><a name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 163</span>LA
+PULPERIA</h2>
+<p><a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 165</span><span
+class="smcap">It</span> may have been the Flor de Mayo, Rosa del
+Sur, or Tres de Junio, or again but have been known as the
+Pulperia upon the Huesos, or the Esquina on the
+Napost&aacute;.&nbsp; But let its name have been what chance or
+the imagination of some Neapolitan or Basque had given it, I see
+it, and seeing it, dismounting, fastening my
+&ldquo;redomon&rdquo; to the palenque, enter, loosen my facon,
+feel if my pistol is in its place, and calling out
+&ldquo;Carlon,&rdquo; receive my measure of strong, heady red
+Spanish wine in a tin cup.&nbsp; Passing it round to the company,
+who touch it with their lips to show their breeding, I seem to
+feel the ceaseless little wind which always blows upon the
+southern plains, stirring the dust upon the pile of fleeces in
+the court, and whistling through the wooden &ldquo;reja&rdquo;
+where the pulpero stands behind his counter with his pile of
+bottles close beside him, ready for what may chance.&nbsp; For
+outward visible signs, a low, squat, mud-built house, surrounded
+by a shallow ditch on which grew stunted cactuses, and with paja
+brava sticking out of the abode of the overhanging eaves.&nbsp;
+Brown, sun-baked, dusty-looking, it stands up, an island in the
+sea of waving <a name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+166</span>hard-stemmed grasses which the improving settler passes
+all his life in a vain fight to improve away; and make his own
+particular estancia an Anglo-Saxon Eden of trim sheep-cropped
+turf, set here and there with &ldquo;agricultural
+implements,&rdquo; broken and thrown aside, and though imported
+at great trouble and expense, destined to be replaced by
+ponderous native ploughs hewn from the solid &ntilde;andubay, and
+which, of course, inevitably prove the superiority of the
+so-called unfit.&nbsp; For inward graces, the &ldquo;reja&rdquo;
+before which runs a wooden counter at which the flower of the
+Gauchage of the district lounge, or sit with their toes sticking
+through their potro boots, swinging their legs and keeping time
+to the &ldquo;cielito&rdquo; of the &ldquo;payador&rdquo; upon
+his cracked guitar, the strings eked out with fine-cut thongs of
+mare&rsquo;s hide, by jingling their spurs.</p>
+<p>Behind the wooden grating, sign in the Pampa of the eternal
+hatred betwixt those who buy and those who sell, some shelves of
+yellow pine, on which are piled ponchos from Leeds, ready-made
+calzoncillos, alpargatas, figs, sardines, raisins,
+bread&mdash;for bread upon the Pampa used to be eaten only at
+Pulperias&mdash;saddle-cloths, and in a corner the
+&ldquo;botilleria,&rdquo; where vermuth, absinthe, square-faced
+gin, Carlon, and Vino Seco stand in a row, with the barrel of
+Brazilian ca&ntilde;a, on the top of which the pulpero
+ostentatiously parades his pistol and his knife.&nbsp; Outside,
+the tracks led through the <a name="page167"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 167</span>biscacheras, all converging after
+the fashion of the rails at a junction; at the palenque before
+the door stood horses tied by strong raw-hide cabrestos, hanging
+their heads in the fierce sun, shifting from leg to leg, whilst
+their companions, hobbled, plunged about, rearing themselves on
+their hind-legs to jump like kangaroos.</p>
+<p>Now and then Gauchos rode up occasionally, their iron spurs
+hanging off their naked feet, held by a raw-hide thong; some
+dressed in black bombachas and vicu&ntilde;a ponchos, their
+horses weighted down with silver, and prancing sideways as their
+riders sat immovable, but swaying from the waist upwards like
+willows in a wind.&nbsp; Others, again, on lean young colts,
+riding upon a saddle covered with sheepskin, gripping the small
+hide stirrup with their toes and forcing them up to the posts
+with shouts of &ldquo;Ah bagual!&rdquo; &ldquo;Ah
+Pehuelche!&rdquo; &ldquo;Ahijuna!&rdquo; and with resounding
+blows of their short, flat-lashed whips, which they held by a
+thong between their fingers or slipped upon their wrists, then
+grasping their frightened horses by the ears, got off as gingerly
+as a cat jumps from a wall.&nbsp; From the rush-thatched,
+mud-walled rancheria at the back the women, who always haunt the
+outskirts of a pulperia in the districts known as tierra adentro
+(the inside country), Indians and semi-whites, mulatresses, and
+now and then a stray Basque or Italian girl turned out, to share
+the quantity they considered love with all mankind.</p>
+<p><a name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>But
+gin and politics, with horses&rsquo; marks, accounts of fights,
+and recollections of the last revolution, kept men for the
+present occupied with serious things, so that the women were
+constrained to sit and smoke, drink mat&eacute;, plait each
+other&rsquo;s hair (searching it diligently the while), and wait
+until Carlon with Vino Seco, square-faced rum, cachaza, and the
+medicated log-wood broth, which on the Pampa passes for
+&ldquo;Vino Franc&eacute;s,&rdquo; had made men sensible to their
+softer charms.&nbsp; That which in Europe we call love, and think
+by inventing it that we have cheated God, who clearly planted
+nothing but an instinct of self-continuation in mankind, as in
+the other animals, seems either to be in embryo, waiting for
+economic advancement to develop it; or is perhaps not even
+dormant in countries such as those in whose vast plains the
+pulperia stands for club, exchange, for meeting-place, and
+represents all that in other lands men think they find in Paris
+or in London, and choose to dignify under the style of
+intellectual life.&nbsp; Be it far from me to think that we have
+bettered the Creator&rsquo;s scheme; or by the substitution of
+our polyandry for polygamy, bettered the position of women, or in
+fact done anything but changed and made more complex that which
+at first was clear to understand.</p>
+<p>But, be that as it may and without dogmatism, our love, our
+vices, our rendering wicked things natural in themselves, our
+secrecy, our pruriency, adultery, and all the myriad
+ramifications of things <a name="page169"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 169</span>sexual, without which no novelist
+could earn his bread, fall into nothing, except there is a
+press-directed public opinion, laws, bye-laws, leaded type and
+headlines, so to speak, to keep them up.&nbsp; True, nothing of
+all this entered our heads as we sat drinking, listening to a
+contest of minstrelsy &ldquo;por contrapunto&rdquo; betwixt a
+Gaucho payador and a &ldquo;matrero negro&rdquo; of great fame,
+who each in turn taking the cracked &ldquo;changango&rdquo; in
+their lazo-hardened hands, plucked at its strings in such a style
+as to well illustrate the saying that to play on the guitar is
+not a thing of science, but requires but perseverance, hard
+finger-tips, and an unusual development of strength in the right
+wrist.&nbsp; Negro and payador each sang alternately; firstly old
+Spanish love songs handed down from before the independence,
+quavering and high; in which Frasquita rhymed to chiquita, and
+one Cupido, whom I never saw in Pampa, loma, rincon, bolson, or
+medano, in the Cha&ntilde;ares, amongst the woods of
+&ntilde;andubay, the pajonales, sierras, cuchillas, or in all the
+land, figured and did nothing very special; flourished, and then
+departed in a high falsetto shake, a rough sweep of the hard
+brown fingers over the jarring strings forming his fitting
+epitaph.</p>
+<p>The story of &ldquo;El Fausto,&rdquo; and how the Gaucho,
+Aniceto, went to Buenos Ayres, saw the opera of
+&ldquo;Faust,&rdquo; lost his pu&ntilde;al in the crush to take
+his seat, sat through the fearsome play, saw face to face the <a
+name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 170</span>enemy of
+man, described <a name="citation170a"></a><a href="#footnote170a"
+class="citation">[170a]</a> as being dressed in long stockings to
+the stifle-joint, eyebrows like arches for tilting at the wing,
+and eyes like water-holes in a dry river bed, succeeded, and the
+negro took up the challenge and rejoined.&nbsp; He told how,
+after leaving town, that Aniceto mounted on his Overo rosao, <a
+name="citation170b"></a><a href="#footnote170b"
+class="citation">[170b]</a> fell in with his
+&ldquo;compadre,&rdquo; told all his wondrous tale, and how they
+finished off their bottle and left it floating in the river like
+a buoy.</p>
+<p>The payador, not to be left behind, and after having tuned his
+guitar and put the &ldquo;cejilla&rdquo; on the strings, launched
+into the strange life of Martin Fierro, type of the Gauchos on
+the frontier, related his multifarious fights, his escapades, and
+love affairs, and how at last he, his friend, Don Cruz, saw on an
+evening the last houses as, with a stolen tropilla of good
+horses, they passed the frontier to seek the Indians&rsquo;
+tents.&nbsp; The death of Cruz, the combat of Martin with the
+Indian chief&mdash;he with his knife, the Indian with the
+bolas&mdash;and how Martin slew him and rescued the captive
+woman, who prayed to heaven to aid the Christian, with <a
+name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 171</span>the body of
+her dead child, its hands secured in a string made out of one of
+its own entrails, lying before her as she watched the varying
+fortunes of the fight, he duly told.&nbsp; La Vuelta de Martin
+and the strange maxims of Tio Viscacha, that Pampa cynic whose
+maxim was never to ride up to a house where dogs were thin, and
+who set forth that arms are necessary, but no man can tell when,
+were duly recorded by the combatants, listened to and received as
+new and authentic by the audience, till at last the singing and
+the frequent glasses of Carlon made payador and negro feel that
+the time had come to leave off contrapunto and decide which was
+most talented in music, with their facons.&nbsp; A personal
+allusion to the colour of the negro&rsquo;s skin, a retort
+calling in question the nice conduct of the sister of the
+payador, and then two savages foaming at the mouth, their ponchos
+wrapped round their arms, their bodies bent so as to protect
+their vitals, and their knives quivering like snakes, stood in
+the middle of the room.&nbsp; The company withdrew themselves
+into the smallest space, stood on the tops of casks, and at the
+door the faces of the women looked in delight, whilst the
+pulpero, with a pistol and a bottle in his hands, closed down his
+grating and was ready for whatever might befall.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Negro,&rdquo; &ldquo;Ahijuna,&rdquo; &ldquo;Miente,&rdquo;
+&ldquo;carajo,&rdquo; and the knives flash and send out sparks as
+the returns de tic au tac jar the fighters&rsquo; arms up to the
+shoulder-joints.&nbsp; In a moment all is over, and from the
+payador&rsquo;s right <a name="page172"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 172</span>arm the blood drops in a stream on
+the mud floor, and all the company step out and say the negro is
+a &ldquo;valiente,&rdquo; &ldquo;muy guapeton,&rdquo; and the two
+adversaries swear friendship over a tin mug of gin.&nbsp; But all
+the time during the fight, and whilst outside the younger men had
+ridden races barebacked, making false starts to tire each
+other&rsquo;s horses out, practising all the tricks they knew, as
+kicking their adversary&rsquo;s horse in the chest, riding beside
+their opponent and trying to lift him from his seat by placing
+their foot underneath his and pushing upwards, an aged Gaucho had
+gradually become the centre figure of the scene.</p>
+<p>Seated alone he muttered to himself, occasionally broke into a
+falsetto song, and now and then half drawing out his knife,
+glared like a tiger-cat, and shouted &ldquo;Viva Rosas,&rdquo;
+though he knew that chieftain had been dead for twenty years.</p>
+<p>Tall and with straggling iron-grey locks hanging down his
+back, a broad-brimmed plush hat kept in its place by a black
+ribbon with two tassels under his chin, a red silk Chinese
+handkerchief tied loosely round his neck and hanging with a point
+over each shoulder-blade, he stood dressed in his chiripa and
+poncho, like a mad prophet amongst the motley crew.&nbsp; Upon
+his feet were potro boots, that is the skin taken off the
+hind-leg of a horse, the hock-joint forming the heel and the hide
+softened by pounding with a mallet, the whole tied with a garter
+of a strange pattern woven by the Indians, <a
+name="page173"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 173</span>leaving the
+toes protruding to catch the stirrups, which as a domador he
+used, made of a knot of hide.&nbsp; Bound round his waist he had
+a set of ostrich balls covered in lizard skin, and his broad belt
+made of carpincho leather was kept in place by five Brazilian
+dollars, and through it stuck a long facon with silver handle
+shaped like a half-moon, and silver sheath fitted with a catch to
+grasp his sash.&nbsp; Whilst others talked of women or of horses,
+alluding to their physical perfections, tricks or predilections,
+their hair, hocks, eyes, brands or peculiarities, discussing them
+alternately with the appreciation of men whose tastes are simple
+but yet know all the chief points of interest in both subjects,
+he sat and drank.&nbsp; Tio Cabrera (said the others) is in the
+past, he thinks of times gone by; of the Italian girl whom he
+forced and left with her throat cut and her tongue protruding, at
+the pass of the Pu&aacute;n; of how he stole the Indian&rsquo;s
+horses, and of the days when Rosas ruled the land.&nbsp; Pucha,
+compadre, those were times, eh?&nbsp; Before the
+&ldquo;nations,&rdquo; English, Italian and Neapolitan, with
+French and all the rest, came here to learn the taste of meat,
+and ride, the &ldquo;maturangos,&rdquo; in their own countries
+having never seen a horse.&nbsp; But though they talked at, yet
+they refrained from speaking to him, for he was old, and even the
+devil knows more because of years than because he is the devil,
+and they knew also that to kill a man was to Tio Cabrera as
+pleasant an exercise as for <a name="page174"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 174</span>them to kill a sheep.&nbsp; But at
+last I, with the accumulated wisdom of my twenty years, holding a
+glass of ca&ntilde;a in my hand, approached him, and inviting him
+to drink, said, not exactly knowing why, &ldquo;Viva
+Urquiza,&rdquo; and then the storm broke out.&nbsp; His eyes
+flashed fire, and drawing his facon he shouted &ldquo;Muera! . .
+.&nbsp; Viva Rosas,&rdquo; and drove his knife into the mud
+walls, struck on the counter with the flat of the blade, foamed
+at the mouth, broke into snatches of obscene and long-forgotten
+songs, as &ldquo;Viva Rosas!&nbsp; Muera Urquiza dale guasca en
+la petiza,&rdquo; whilst the rest, not heeding that I had a
+pistol in my belt, tried to restrain him by all means in their
+power.&nbsp; But he was maddened, yelled, &ldquo;Yes, I, Tio
+Cabrera, known also as el Cordero, tell you I know how to play
+the violin (a euphemism on the south pampa for cutting
+throats).&nbsp; In Rosas&rsquo; time, Viva el General, I was his
+right-hand man, and have dispatched many a Unitario dog either to
+Trapalanda or to hell.&nbsp; Ca&ntilde;a, blood, Viva Rosas,
+Muera!&rdquo; then tottering and shaking, his knife slipped from
+his hands and he fell on a pile of sheepskins with white foam
+exuding from his lips.&nbsp; Even the Gauchos, who took a life as
+other men take a cigar, and from their earliest childhood are
+brought up to kill, were dominated by his brute fury, and shrank
+to their horses in dismay.&nbsp; The pulpero murmured
+&ldquo;salvage&rdquo; from behind his bars, the women trembled
+and ran to their &ldquo;tolderia,&rdquo; holding each other by
+the hands, and the guitar-players <a name="page175"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 175</span>sat dumb, fearing their instruments
+might come to harm.&nbsp; I, on the contrary, either impelled by
+the strange savagery inherent in men&rsquo;s blood or by some
+reason I cannot explain, caught the infection, and getting on my
+horse, a half-wild &ldquo;redomon,&rdquo; spurred him and set him
+plunging, and at each bound struck him with the flat edge of my
+facon, then shouting &ldquo;Viva Rosas,&rdquo; galloped out
+furiously upon the plain.</p>
+<h2><a name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+177</span>HIGGINSON&rsquo;S DREAM</h2>
+<p><a name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 179</span><span
+class="smcap">The</span> world went very well with Higginson; and
+about that time&mdash;say fifteen years ago&mdash;he found
+himself, his fortune made, settled down in Noumea.&nbsp; The
+group of islands which he had, as he said, rescued from
+barbarism, and in which he had opened the mines, made all the
+harbours, and laid out all the roads, looked to him as their
+Providence; and to crown the work, he had had them placed under
+the French flag.&nbsp; Rich, <i>d&eacute;cor&eacute;,</i>
+respected, and with no worlds to conquer in particular, he still
+kept adding wealth to wealth; trading and doing what he
+considered useful work for all mankind in general, as if he had
+been poor.</p>
+<p>Strange that a kindly man, a cosmopolitan, half French, half
+English, brought up in Australia, capable, active, pushing, and
+even not devoid of that interior grace a speculative intellect,
+which usually militates against a man in the battle of his life,
+should think that roads, mines, harbours, havens, ships, bills of
+lading, telegraphs, tramways, a European flag, even the French
+flag itself, could compensate his islanders for loss of
+liberty.&nbsp; Stranger in his case than in the case of those who
+<a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 180</span>go grown
+up with all the prejudices, limitations, circumscriptions and
+formalities of civilization become chronic in them, and see in
+savage countries and wild peoples but dumping ground for European
+trash, and capabilities for the extension of the Roubaix or the
+Sheffield trade; for he had passed his youth amongst the islands,
+loved their women, gone spearing fish with their young men, had
+planted taro with them, drunk kava, learned their language, and
+become as expert as themselves in all their futile arts and
+exercises; knew their customs and was as one of them, living
+their life and thinking it the best.</p>
+<p>&rsquo;Tis said (Viera, I think, relates it) that in the last
+years of fighting for the possession of Teneriffe, and when
+Alonso de Lugo was hard pressed to hold his own against the last
+Mencey, Bencomo, a strange sickness known as the
+&ldquo;modorra&rdquo; seized the Guanches and killed more of them
+than were slain in all the fights.&nbsp; The whole land was
+covered with the dead, and once Alonso de Lugo met a woman
+sitting on the hill-side, who called out, &ldquo;Where are you
+going, Christian?&nbsp; Why do you hesitate to take the land? the
+Guanches are all dead.&rdquo;&nbsp; The Spanish chroniclers say
+that the sickness came about by reason of a wet season, and that,
+coming as it did upon men weakened by privation, they fell into
+apathy and welcomed death as a deliverer.&nbsp; That may be so,
+and it is true that in hill-caves even to-day in the lone valleys
+by <a name="page181"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 181</span>Icod
+el Alto their bodies still are found seated and with the head
+bowed on the arms, as if having sat down to mourn the afflictions
+of their race, God had been merciful for once and let them
+sleep.&nbsp; The chroniclers may have been right, and the wet
+season, with despair, starvation and the hardships they endured,
+may have brought on the mysterious &ldquo;modorra,&rdquo; the
+drowsy sickness, under which they fell.&nbsp; But it needs
+nothing but the presence of the conquering white man, decked in
+his shoddy clothes, armed with his gas-pipe gun, his Bible in his
+hand, schemes of benevolence deep rooted in his heart, his
+merchandise (that is, his whisky, gin and cotton cloths) securely
+stored in his corrugated iron-roofed sheds, and he himself active
+and persevering as a beaver or red ant, to bring about a sickness
+which, like the &ldquo;modorra,&rdquo; exterminates the people
+whom he came to benefit, to bless, to rescue from their savagery,
+and to make them wise, just, beautiful, and as apt to
+differentiate evil from good as even he himself.&nbsp; So it
+would seem, act as we like, our presence is a curse to all those
+people who have preserved the primeval instincts of our
+race.&nbsp; Curious, and yet apparently inevitable, that our
+customs seem designed to carry death to all the so-called
+inferior races, whom at a bound we force to bridge a period which
+it has taken us a thousand years to pass.</p>
+<p>In his prosperity, and even we may suppose during the Elysium
+of dining with sous-pr&eacute;fets in <a name="page182"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 182</span>Noumea, and on the occasions when in
+Melbourne or in Sydney he once again consorted with Europeans, he
+always dreamed of a certain bay upon the coast far from Noumea,
+where in his youth he had spent six happy months with a small
+tribe, fishing and swimming, hunting, spearing fish, living on
+taro and bananas, and having for a friend one Tean, son of a
+chief, a youth of his own age.&nbsp; The vision of the happy life
+came back to him; the dazzling beach, the heavy foliage of the
+palao and bread-fruit trees; the grove of cocoa-nuts, and the
+zigzag and intricate paths leading from hut to hut, which when a
+boy he traversed daily, knowing them all by instinct in the same
+way that horses in wild countries know how to return towards the
+place where they were born.&nbsp; And still the vision haunted
+him; not making him unhappy, for he was one of those who find
+relief from thought in work, but always there in the same way
+that the remembrance of a mean action is ever present, even when
+one has made atonement, or induced oneself to think it was not
+really mean, but rendered necessary by circumstances; or, in
+fact, when we imagine we have put to sleep that inward
+grasshopper which in our bosoms, blood, brain, stomach, or
+wheresoever it is situated, is louder or more faint according to
+our state of health, digestion, weakness, or what it is that
+makes us hear its chirp.</p>
+<p>And so it was that cheap champagne seemed flat to him; the
+company of the yellow-haired and <a name="page183"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 183</span>faded <i>demi-mondaines</i> whom
+Paris dumps upon New Caledonia insipid; the villas on the cliff
+outside Noumea vulgar; and the prosperity and progress of the
+place to which he had so much contributed, profitless and
+stale.&nbsp; Not that for a single instant he stopped working,
+planning and improving his estates, or missed a chance to acquire
+&ldquo;town lots,&rdquo; or if a profitable 10,000 acres of good
+land with river frontage came into the market, hesitated for a
+moment to step in and buy.&nbsp; Now, though by this time he had
+long got past the need of actually trading with the natives at
+first hand, and kept, as rich men do, captains and secretaries
+and lawyers to do his lying for him, and only now and then would
+condescend to exercise himself in that respect when the stake was
+large enough to make the matter reputable, yet sometimes he would
+take a cruise in one of his own schooners and play at being
+poor.&nbsp; Nothing so tickles a man&rsquo;s vanity as to look
+back upon his semi-incredible past, and talk of the times when he
+had to live on sixpence a day, and to recount his breakfast on a
+penny roll and glass of milk, and then to put his hands upon his
+turtle-bloated stomach, smile a fat smile and say, &ldquo;Ah,
+those were the days, then I was happy!&rdquo; although he knows
+that at that halcyon period he was miserable, not perhaps so much
+from poverty, as from that envy which is as great a curse to poor
+men as is indigestion to the rich.</p>
+<p>So running down the coast of New Caledonia in <a
+name="page184"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 184</span>a schooner,
+trading in pearls and copra, he came one evening to a
+well-remembered bay.&nbsp; All seemed familiar to him, the low
+white beach, tall palm-trees, coral reef with breakers thundering
+over it, and the still blue lagoon inside the clump of breadfruit
+trees, the single tall grey stone just by the beach all graven
+over with strange characters, all struck a chord long dormant in
+his mind.&nbsp; So telling his skipper to let go his anchor, he
+rowed himself ashore.&nbsp; On landing he was certain of the
+place; the tribe, about five hundred strong, ruled over by the
+father of his friend Tean, lived right along the bay, and
+scattered in palm-thatched huts throughout the district.&nbsp;
+Then he remembered a certain cocoa-nut palm he used to climb, a
+spring of water in a thicket of hibiscus, a little stream which
+he used to dam, and then divert the course to take the fish, and
+sitting down, all his past life came back to him.&nbsp; As he
+himself would say, &ldquo;C&rsquo;etait le bon temps; pauvre Tean
+il doit &ecirc;tre Areki (chef) maintenant; sa soeur
+peut-&ecirc;tre est morte ou mari&eacute;e . . . elle
+m&rsquo;aimait bien . . . &rdquo;</p>
+<p>But this day-dream dispelled, it struck him that the place
+looked changed.&nbsp; Where were the long low huts in front of
+which he used to pass his idle hours stretched in a hammock, the
+little taro patches?&nbsp; The zigzag paths which used to run
+from house to house across the fields to the spring and to the
+turtle-pond were all grown up.&nbsp; Couch-grass and rank mimosa
+scrub, with here and there <a name="page185"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 185</span>ropes of lianas, blocked them so
+that he rubbed his eyes and asked himself, Where is the
+tribe?&nbsp; Vainly he shouted, cooeed loudly; all was silent,
+and his own voice came back to him muffled and startling as it
+does when a man feels he is alone.&nbsp; At last, following one
+of the paths less grown up and obliterated than the rest, he
+entered a thick scrub, walked for a mile or two cutting lianas
+now and then with his jack-knife, stumbling through swamps,
+wading through mud, until in a little clearing he came upon a
+hut, in front of which a man was digging yams.&nbsp; As many of
+the natives in New Caledonia speak English and few French, he
+called to him in English, &ldquo;Where black man?&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Resting upon his hoe, the man replied, &ldquo;All
+dead.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Where Chief?&rdquo;&nbsp; And the same
+answer, &ldquo;Chief, he dead.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Tean, he
+dead?&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;No, Tean Chief; he ill, die soon; Tean
+inside that house.&rdquo;&nbsp; And Higginson, not understanding,
+but feeling vaguely that his dream was shattered in some way he
+could not understand, called out, &ldquo;Tean, oh, Tean, your
+friend Johnny here!&rdquo;&nbsp; Then from the hut emerged a
+feeble man leaning upon a long curved stick, who gazed at him as
+he had seen a ghost.&nbsp; At last he said, &ldquo;That you,
+John?&nbsp; I glad to see you once before I die.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+Whether they embraced, shook hands, rubbed noses, or what their
+greeting was is not recorded, for Higginson, in alluding to it,
+always used to say, &ldquo;C&rsquo;est b&ecirc;te, mais le pauvre
+homme me faisait de la peine.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><a name="page186"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 186</span>This
+was his sickness.&nbsp; &ldquo;Me sick, John; why you wait so
+long? you no remember, so many years ago when we spear fish, you
+love my sister, she dead five years ago . . .&nbsp; When me go
+kaikai (eat) piece sugar-cane, little bit perhaps fall on the
+ground, big bird he come eat bit of sugar-cane and eat my
+life.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Poor Higginson being a civilized man, with the full knowledge
+of all things good and evil contingent on his state, still was
+dismayed, but said, &ldquo;No, Tean, I get plenty big gun; you
+savey when I shoot even a butterfly he fall.&nbsp; I shoot big
+bird so that when you go kaikai he no eat pieces, and you get
+well again.&rdquo;&nbsp; Thus Higginson from his altitude argued
+with the semi-savage, thinking, as men will think, that even
+death can be kept off with words.&nbsp; But Tean smiled and said,
+&ldquo;Johnny, you savey heap, but you no savey all.&nbsp; This
+time I die.&nbsp; You go shoot bird he turn into a mouse, and
+mouse eat all I eat, just the same bird.&rdquo;&nbsp; This rather
+staggered Higginson, and he felt his theories begin to vanish,
+and he began to feel a little angry; but really loving his old
+friend, he once more addressed himself to what he now saw might
+be a hopeless task.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I go Noumea get big black cat, beautiful cat, all the
+same tiger&mdash;you savey tiger, Tean?&mdash;glossy and fat,
+long tail and yellow eyes; when he see mouse he eat him; you go
+bed sleep, get up, and soon quite well.&rdquo;&nbsp; Tean, who by
+this time had changed position with his friend, and become out of
+his <a name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+187</span>knowledge a philosopher, shook his head sadly and
+replied, &ldquo;You no savey nothing, John; when black man know
+he die there is no hope.&nbsp; Suppose cat he catch mouse, all no
+use; mouse go change into a big, black cloud, all the same
+rain.&nbsp; Rain fall upon me, and each drop burn right into my
+bones.&nbsp; I die, John, glad I see you; black man all die,
+black woman no catch baby, tribe only fifty &rsquo;stead of five
+hundred.&nbsp; We all go out, all the same smoke, we vanish, go
+up somewhere, into the clouds.&nbsp; Black men and white men, he
+no can live.&nbsp; New Caledonia (as you call him) not big enough
+for both.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>What happened after that Higginson never told, for when he
+reached that point he used to break out into a torrent of half
+French, half English oaths, blaspheme his gods, curse progress,
+rail at civilization, and recall the time when all the tribe were
+happy, and he and Tean in their youth went spearing fish.&nbsp;
+And then bewildered, and as if half-conscious that he himself had
+been to blame, would say, &ldquo;I made the roads, opened the
+mines, built the first pier, I opened up the island; ah, le
+pauvre Tean, il me faisait de la peine . . . et sa soeur morte .
+. . she was so pretty with a hibiscus wreath . . . ah, well,
+pauvre petite . . . je l&rsquo;aimais bien.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page189"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+189</span>CALVARY</h2>
+<p><a name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 191</span><span
+class="smcap">Just</span> where the River Plate, split by a
+hundred islands, forms a sort of delta, a tract of marshy land in
+Entre Rios, known as the Rincones of the Ibicuy, spreads out
+flat, cut by a thousand channels, heavily timbered, shut in upon
+the landward side by a long range of hills of dazzling sand, and
+buried everywhere in waving masses of tall grass.</p>
+<p>Grass, grass, and yet more grass.&nbsp; Grass at all seasons
+of the year, so that the half-wild horses never know the scarcity
+of pasture which in the winter makes them lean and rough upon the
+outside plains.&nbsp; A district shut by its sand-hills and the
+great river from the outer world.&nbsp; A paradise for horses,
+cattle, tigers, myriads of birds, for capibaras, nutrias, and for
+the stray Italians who now and then come from the cities with a
+rotten boat, and miserable, cheap, Belgian gun, to slaughter
+ducks.</p>
+<p>The population, sparse and indolent, a hybrid breed between
+the Gauchos and the Chanar Indians, who at the conquest retreated
+into the thickest swamps and islands of the River Plate.&nbsp;
+But still a country where life flows easily away amongst the
+cane-brakes, thickets of espinillo, tala and &ntilde;andubay, and
+where from out the pajonales the <a name="page192"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 192</span>half-wild horses bound like
+antelopes, shaking their manes, their tails aloft like flags,
+snorting and frisking in the pride of strength, and lighting up
+the landscape with their variegated colours like a herd of fallow
+deer.&nbsp; A land of vegetation so intense as to bedwarf mankind
+almost as absolutely as we bedwarf ourselves with our machinery
+in a manufacturing town.&nbsp; Air plants upon the trees;
+oven-birds&rsquo; earthen, gourd-like nests hanging from boughs;
+great wasp nests in the hollows of the trunks; scarlet and
+rose-pink flamingoes fishing in the shallow pools; nutrias
+floating down the streams, their round and human-looking heads
+appearing just awash; and the dark silent channels of the
+stagnant backwaters, so thickly grown with water weeds that by
+throwing a few branches on the top a man may cross his horse.</p>
+<p>Commerce, that vivifying force, that bond of union between all
+the basest instincts of the basest of mankind, that touch of
+lower human nature which makes all the lowest natures of mankind
+akin, was quite unknown.&nbsp; Cheating was elementary, and
+rarely did much harm but to the successful cheat; at times a
+neighbour passed a leaden dollar on a friend, was soon detected,
+and was branded as a thief; at times a man slaughtered a
+neighbour&rsquo;s cow, and sold the hide, stole a good horse, or
+perpetrated some piece of petty villainy, sufficient by its
+transparent folly to reassure the world that he was quite
+uncivilized, and not fit by his exertions ever to grow rich.</p>
+<p><a name="page193"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+193</span>Adultery and fornication were frequent, and, again,
+chiefly concerned the principals, as there were no
+self-instituted censors, eager to carry tales, and to revenge
+themselves upon the world for their own impotency.</p>
+<p>All were apt lazoers, great with the bolas, and all rode as
+they had issued from their mothers&rsquo; wombs mounted upon a
+foal, and grown together with him, half horse, half
+man&mdash;quiet and almost blameless centaurs, and as happy as it
+is possible for men to be who come into the world ready baptized
+in tears.</p>
+<p>So much for man in the Rincones of the Ibicuy, and let us
+leave him quiet and indolent, fighting occasionally at the
+&ldquo;Pulperia&rdquo; for a quart of wine, for jealousy, for
+politics, or any of the so-called reasons which make men shed
+each other&rsquo;s blood.</p>
+<p>But commerce, holy commerce, thrice blessed nexus which makes
+the whole world kin, reducing all men to the lowest common
+multiple; commerce that curses equally both him who buys and him
+who sells, and not content with catching all men in its ledgers,
+envies the animals their happy lives, was on the watch.&nbsp;
+Throughout the boundaries of the River Plate, from Corrientes to
+the bounds of Tucuman, San Luis de la Punta to San Nicholas, and
+to the farthest limits of the stony southern plains, nowhere were
+horses cheaper than in the close Rincones of the Ibicuy.&nbsp;
+Three, four, or five, or at the most six dollars, bought the
+best, <a name="page194"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+194</span>especially if but half-tamed, and a convenient curve of
+the river allowed a steamboat to discharge or to load goods, tied
+to a tree and moored beside the bank.</p>
+<p>Upon a day a steamer duly arrived, whistled, and anchored, and
+from her, in a canoe, appeared a group of men who landed, and
+with the assistance of a guide went to the chief estancia of the
+place.&nbsp; The owner, Cruz Cabrera, called also Cruz el
+Narigudo, came to his door, welcomed them, driving off his dogs,
+wondered, but still said nothing, as it is not polite to ask a
+stranger what is the business that brings him to your
+house.&nbsp; Mat&eacute; went round, and gin served in a
+square-faced bottle, and drank out of a solitary wine-glass, the
+stem long snapped in the middle, and spliced by shrinking a piece
+of green cow-hide round a thin cane, and fastening the cane into
+a disc of roughly-shaped soft wood.&nbsp; &ldquo;Three dollars by
+the cut, and I&rsquo;ll take fifty.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;No, four
+and a half; my horses are the best of the whole
+district.&rdquo;&nbsp; And so the ignoble farce of bargaining,
+which from the beginning of the world has been the touchstone of
+the zero of the human heart, pursued its course.</p>
+<p>At last the &ldquo;higgling of the
+market&rdquo;&mdash;God-descended phrase&mdash;dear to economists
+and those who in their studies apart from life weave webs in
+which mankind is caught, decreed that at four dollars the deal
+was to be made.&nbsp; But at the moment of arrangement one of the
+strangers saw a fine chestnut colt standing saddled at the door,
+and <a name="page195"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+195</span>claimed him as a &ldquo;sweetener,&rdquo; and to save
+talk his master let him go, and then, the money counted over, the
+buyer, prepared to give a hand to catch the horses, and to lead
+them singly to the boat.&nbsp; Plunging and snorting, sweating
+with terror, and half dead with fear, kicked, cuffed, and pricked
+with knives, horse after horse was forced aboard, and stood tied
+to a ring or stanchion, the sweat falling in drops like rain from
+legs and bellies on the deck.&nbsp; Only the chestnut stood
+looking uneasily about, and frightened by the struggles and the
+sound of blows falling upon the backs of those his once
+companions in the wild gallops through the forest glades, who had
+been forced aboard.</p>
+<p>Then Cruz Cabrera cursed his folly with an oath, and getting
+for the last time on his back made him turn, passage, plunge, and
+started and checked him suddenly, then getting off unsaddled him,
+and gave his halter to a man to lead him to the ship.&nbsp; The
+horse resisted, terrified at the strange unusual sight, and one
+of the strangers, raising his iron whip, struck him across the
+nose, exclaiming with an oath, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll show you what it
+is to make a fuss, you damned four dollars&rsquo; worth, when
+once I get you safe aboard the ship.&rdquo;&nbsp; And Cruz
+Cabrera, gripping his long knife, was grieved, and said much as
+to the chastity of the stranger&rsquo;s mother, and of his wife,
+but underneath his breath, not that he feared to cut a
+&ldquo;gringo&rsquo;s&rdquo; throat, but that the dollars kept
+him quiet, as they have rendered dumb, priests, ministers of
+state, bishops and merchants, princes and peasants, <a
+name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 196</span>and have
+closed the mouths of three parts of mankind, making them silent
+complices in all the villainies they see and hate, and still dare
+not denounce, fearing the scourge of poverty, and the smart lash
+which Don Dinero flourishes over the shoulders of all those who
+venture even remotely to express their thoughts.</p>
+<p>Quickly the Ibicuy melted into the mist, as the wheezy steamer
+grunted and squattered like a wounded wild duck, down the yellow
+flood.&nbsp; Inside, the horses, more dead than alive, panted
+with thirst, and yet were still too timid to approach the water
+troughs.&nbsp; They slipped and struggled on the deck, fell and
+plunged up again, and at each fall or plunge, the blows fell on
+their backs, partly from folly, partly from the satisfaction that
+some men feel in hurting anything which fate or Providence has
+placed without the power of resistance in their hands.&nbsp;
+Instinct and reason; the hypothetic difference which good weak
+men use as an an&aelig;sthetic when their conscience pricks them
+for their sins of omission and commission to their four-footed
+brethren.&nbsp; But a distinction wholly without a difference,
+and a link in the long chain of fraud and force with which we
+bind all living things, men, animals, and most of all our
+reasoning selves, in one crass neutral-tinted slavery.&nbsp; Who
+that has never put his bistouri upon the soul, and hitherto no
+vivisectionist (of men or animals) can claim the feat, shall say
+who suffers most&mdash;the biped or the four-footed animal?&nbsp;
+I know the cant of education, <a name="page197"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 197</span>the higher organism, and the
+dogmatics of the so-called scientists which bid so fair to
+worthily replace those of the theologians, but who shall say if
+animals, when suddenly removed from all that sanctifies their
+lives, do not pass agonies far more intense than such endured by
+those whose education or whose reason&mdash;what you
+will&mdash;still leaves them hope?</p>
+<p>By the next morning the wheezy, wood-fired steamer was in the
+roads of Buenos Ayres, the exiles of the Ibicuy with coats all
+starring, flanks tucked up, hanging their heads, no more the
+lightsome creatures of but yesterday.</p>
+<p>Steam launches, pitching like porpoises in the shallow stream,
+whale-boats manned by Italians girt with red sashes, and with
+yellow shirts made beautiful with scarlet horse-shoes, and whose
+eyes glistened like diamonds in their roguish, nut-coloured
+faces, came alongside the ship.&nbsp; Lighters, after much
+expenditure of curses and vain reaches with boat-hooks at the
+paddle-floats, hooked on, and dropped astern.&nbsp; The
+donkey-engine started with a whirr, giving the unwilling
+passengers another tremor of alarm, and then the work of lowering
+them into the flat-bottomed lighters straight began.&nbsp;
+Kickings and strugglings, and one by one, their coats all matted
+with the sweat of terror, they were dropped into the boat.&nbsp;
+One or two slipped from the slings, and landed with a broken leg,
+and then a dig with a &ldquo;facon&rdquo; ended their troubles,
+and their bodies floated on the shallow waves, followed by flocks
+of gulls.&nbsp; Puffing and pitching, <a name="page198"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 198</span>the tug dragging the lighter reached
+the ocean-steamer&rsquo;s side.&nbsp; Again the donkey-engine
+rattled and whirred, and once again the luckless animals were
+hoisted up, stowed on the lower deck in rows in semi-darkness,
+and after a due interval the vessel put to sea.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Who would not sell a farm and go to sea?&rdquo; the
+sailor says, and turns his quid remarking, &ldquo;Go to sea for
+pleasure, yes, and to hell for fun.&rdquo;&nbsp; The smell of
+steam, confinement, the motion of the ship, monotony of days,
+time marked but by the dinner-bell, a hell to passengers who in
+their cabins curse the hours, and kill the time with cards,
+books, drink and flirtation, and yet find every day a week.&nbsp;
+But to the exiles of the Ibicuy, stricken with terror, too ill to
+eat, parching, and yet afraid to drink, hopeless and fevered,
+sick at heart, slipping and falling, bruised with each motion of
+the ship, beaten when restless, and perhaps in some dim way
+conscious of having left their birthplace, and foreseeing nothing
+but misery, who shall say what they endured during the passage,
+in the hot days, the stifling nights, and in the final change to
+the dark skies and chilling breezes of the north?&nbsp; Happiest
+those who died without the knowledge of the London streets, and
+whose bruised carcasses were flung into the sea, their coats
+matted with sweat and filth, legs swelled, and heads hanging down
+limply as they trailed the bodies on the decks.</p>
+<p>The docks, the dealer&rsquo;s yard, the breaking in to
+harness, and the sale at Aldridge&rsquo;s, and one by one <a
+name="page199"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 199</span>they were
+led out to meet no more; as theologians who have blessed man with
+hell, allow no paradise to beasts.&nbsp; Perhaps because their
+lives being innocent, they would have filled it up so that no man
+could enter, for what saint in any calendar could for an instant
+claim to be admitted if his life were compared to that of the
+most humble of his four-footed brethren in the Lord?&nbsp; Docked
+duly, to show that nature does not know how to make a horse,
+bitted and broken, the chestnut colt, once Cruz Cabrera&rsquo;s
+pride, started on cab work, and for a time gave satisfaction to
+his owner, for, though not fast, he was untiring, and, as his
+driver said, &ldquo;yer couldn&rsquo;t kill &rsquo;im, &rsquo;e
+was a perfect glutton for &rsquo;ard work.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Streets, streets, and yet more streets, endless and
+sewer-like, stony and wood-paved, suburbs interminable, and
+joyless squares, gaunt stuccoed crescents, &ldquo;vales,&rdquo;
+&ldquo;groves,&rdquo; &ldquo;places,&rdquo; a perfect wilderness
+of bricks, he trotted through them all.&nbsp; Derbies and
+boat-races, football matches, Hurlingham and the Welsh Harp,
+Plaistow and Finchley, Harrow-on-the-Hill, the wait at theatres,
+the nightly crawl up Piccadilly watching for fares, where men and
+women stop to talk; rain, snow, ice, frost, and the fury of the
+spring east wind, he knew them all, struggled and shivered,
+baked, shook with fatigue, and still resisted.&nbsp; But time,
+that comes upon us and our horses, stealthily creeping like
+Indians creep upon the war trail without a sign, loosening the
+sinews of our knees, thickening their wind, and making both of us
+useless except for worms, began <a name="page200"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 200</span>to tell.&nbsp; The chronic cough,
+the groggy feet, the eye covered with a cloud, caused by a flick
+inside the blinkers, and the staring coat, soon turned the
+chestnut, from a cab with indiarubber tyres, celluloid fittings,
+and a looking-glass upon each side (for fools to see how
+impossible it is that they can ever have been made after
+God&rsquo;s image), to a night hack, and then the fall to a
+fish-hawker&rsquo;s cart was not too long delayed.</p>
+<p>Blows and short commons, sores from the collar, and continued
+overwork, slipping upon the greasy streets, struggling with loads
+impossible to move, finished the tragedy; and of the joyous colt
+who but a year or two ago bounded through thickets scarcely
+brushing off the dew, nothing was left but a gaunt, miserable,
+lame, wretched beast, a very bag of bones, too thin for
+dog&rsquo;s meat, and too valueless even to afford the mercy of
+the knacker&rsquo;s fee.&nbsp; So, struggling on upon his Via
+Crucis, Providence at last remembered, and let him fall, and the
+shaft entering his side, his blood coloured the pavement; his
+owner, after beating him till he was tired, gave him a farewell
+kick or two; then he lay still, his eyes open and staring, and
+white foam exuding from his mouth.</p>
+<p>The scent of horse dung filled the fetid air, cabs rattled,
+and vans jolted on the stones, and the dead horse, bloody and
+mud-stained, formed, as it were, a sort of island, parting the
+traffic into separate streams, as it surged onward roaring in the
+current of the streets.</p>
+<h2><a name="page201"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 201</span>A
+PAKEHA</h2>
+<p><a name="page203"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 203</span><span
+class="smcap">Rain</span>, rain, and more rain, dripping off the
+sodden trees, soaking the fields, and blotting out the landscape
+as with a neutral-tinted gauze.&nbsp; The sort of day that we in
+the land &ldquo;dove il doce Dorico risuona&rdquo; designate as
+&ldquo;saft.&rdquo;&nbsp; Enter along the road to me a neighbour
+of some fifty to sixty years of age, one Mr. Campbell, a little
+bent, hair faded rather than grey, frosty-faced as we Scotsmen
+are apt to turn after some half a century of weather, but still a
+glint of red showing in the cheeks; moustache and whiskers
+trimmed in the fashion of the later sixties;
+&ldquo;tacketed&rdquo; boots, and clothes, if not impervious to
+the rain, as little affected by it as is the bark of trees.&nbsp;
+His hat, once black and of the pattern affected at one time by
+all Free Church clergymen, now greenish and coal-scuttled fore
+and aft and at the sides.&nbsp; In his red, chapped, dirty, but
+grey-mittened hands a shepherd&rsquo;s stick&mdash;long, crooked,
+and made of hazel-wood.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;ll maybe tak&rsquo; up, laird.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;An awfu&rsquo; spell o&rsquo; it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, disgusting.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><a name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+204</span>&ldquo;Aye, laird, the climate&rsquo;s sort o&rsquo;
+seekenin&rsquo;.&nbsp; I mind when I was in New Zealand in the
+sixties, aye, wi&rsquo; a surveyor, just at the triangulation, ye
+ken.&nbsp; Man, a grand life, same as the tinklers, here to-day
+and gane to-morrow, like old Heather Jock.&nbsp; Hoot, never mind
+your dog, laird, there&rsquo;s just McClimant&rsquo;s sheep, puir
+silly body, I ken his keel-mark.&nbsp; Losh me, a bonny country,
+just a pairfect pairadise, New Zealand.&nbsp; When I first mind
+Dunedin it wasna bigger than the clachan there, out by.&nbsp; A
+braw place noo, I understan&rsquo;, and a&rsquo; the folk
+fearfu&rsquo; took up wi&rsquo; horse, driving their
+four-in-hands, blood cattle, every one of them.&nbsp;
+There&rsquo;s men to-day like Jacky Price&mdash;he was a
+Welshmen, I&rsquo;m thinking&mdash;who I mind doing their
+day&rsquo;s darg just like mysel&rsquo; aboot Dunedin, and noo
+they send their sons hame to be educated up aboot England.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When?&nbsp; &rsquo;Oo aye, I went oot in the old
+<i>London</i> wi&rsquo; Captin Macpherson.&nbsp; He&rsquo;d bin
+the round trip a matter o&rsquo; fifteen times, forbye a wee bit
+jaunt whiles after the &lsquo;blackbirds&rsquo; (slaves, ye ken,
+what we called free endentured labourers) to the New
+Hebrides.&nbsp; The <i>London</i>, aye, &rsquo;oo aye, she
+foundered in the Bay (Biscay, ye ken) on her return.&nbsp;
+It&rsquo;s just a special providence I wasna a passenger
+myself.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why did I leave the country?&nbsp; Eh, laird, ye may
+say.&nbsp; I would hae made my hame out there, but it was just
+the old folks threap, threaping on me to come back, I&rsquo;m
+telling ye.&nbsp; A bonny toon, <a name="page205"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 205</span>Dunedin, biggit on a wee hill just
+for a&rsquo; the wurrld like Gartfarran there, and round the
+point a wee bit plain just like the Carse o&rsquo;
+Stirling.&nbsp; Four year I wrocht at the surveyin&rsquo;,
+maistly triangulation, syne twa at shepherdin&rsquo;, nane
+o&rsquo; your Australlian fashion tailing them a&rsquo; day, but
+on the hame system gaen&rsquo; aboot; man, I mind whiles I didna
+see anither man in sax weeks&rsquo; time.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then you burned bricks, you say?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Aye, I didna&rsquo; think ye had been so gleg at the
+Old Book.&nbsp; Aye, aye, laird, plenty of stra&rsquo;, or maybe
+it was yon New Zealand flax stalk.&nbsp; The awfiest plant ye
+ever clapt your eyes on, is yon flax.&nbsp; I mind when I first
+landed aff the old <i>London</i>&mdash;she foundered in the
+Bay.&nbsp; It was just a speecial interposition . . . but I mind
+I telt ye.&nbsp; Well, I just was dandering aboot outside the
+toon, and hettled to pu&rsquo; some of yon flax; man, I wasna
+fit; each leaf is calculated to bear a pressure of aboot a
+ton.&nbsp; The natives, the Maories, use it to thack their
+cottages.&nbsp; A bonny place, New Zealand, a pairfect
+pairadise&mdash;six-and-thirty years ago&mdash;aye, aye,
+&rsquo;oo aye, just the finest country in God&rsquo;s airth.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Het?&nbsp; Na, na, nane so het as here in simmer, a
+fine, dry air, and a bonny bright blue sky.&nbsp; Dam&rsquo;t, I
+mind the diggings opening tae.&nbsp; There were a wheen
+captins.&nbsp; Na, na, not sea captins, airmy captins, though
+there were plenty of the sea yins doon in the sooth; just airmy
+captins who had gone out and ta&rsquo;en up land; blocked it, ye
+ken, far <a name="page206"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+206</span>as frae here to Stirlin&rsquo;.&nbsp; Pay for it, aye,
+aboot a croon the acre, and a wee bit conseederation to the
+Government surveyor just kept things square.&nbsp; Weel, when the
+diggins opened, some of them sold out and made a fortune.&nbsp;
+Awfu&rsquo; place thae diggins, I hae paid four shillin&rsquo; a
+pound for salt mysel&rsquo;, and as for speerits, they were just
+fair contraband.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And the weemen.&nbsp; Aye, I mind the time, but
+ye&rsquo;ll hae seen the Circassian weemen aboot Africa.&nbsp;
+Weel, weel, I&rsquo;m no saying it&rsquo;s not the case, but folk
+allow that yon Circassians are the finest weemen upon
+earth.&nbsp; Whiles I hae seen some tae, at fairs, ye ken, in the
+bit boothies, but to my mind there&rsquo;s naething like the
+Maories, especially the half-casted yins, clean-limbed, nigh on
+six feet high the maist o&rsquo; them.&nbsp; Ye&rsquo;ll no ken
+Geordie Telfer, him that was a sojer, he&rsquo;s got a bit place
+o&rsquo; his ain out by Milngavie.&nbsp; Geordie&rsquo;s aye
+bragging, bostin&rsquo; aboot weemen that he&rsquo;s seen in
+foreign pairts.&nbsp; He just is of opeenion that in Cashmere or
+thereaboots there is the finest weemen in the warld.&nbsp; Black,
+na, na, laird, just a wee toned and awfu&rsquo; tall, ye
+ken.&nbsp; Geordie he says that Alexander the Great was up aboot
+Cashmere and that his sojers, Spartans I think they ca&rsquo;ed
+them, just intromitted wi&rsquo; the native weemen, took them,
+perhaps, for concubines, as the Scriptures say; but ye&rsquo;ll
+ken sojers, laird; Solomon, tae, an awfu&rsquo; chiel yon
+Solomon.&nbsp; The Maori men were na blate either, a&rsquo; ower
+sax fut high, some nigh on seven fut, sure as death, I&rsquo;m
+tellin&rsquo; ye.&nbsp; Bonny <a name="page207"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 207</span>wrestlers, tae; man, Donald Dinnie
+got an unco tirl wi&rsquo; ane o&rsquo; them aboot Dunedin,
+leastwise if it wasna Dinnie, it was Donald Grant or Donald
+McKenzie, or ane of they champions frae Easter Ross.&nbsp; Sweir
+to sell their land tae they chaps, I mind the Government sent out
+old Sir George Grey, a wise-like man, Sir George, ane o&rsquo;
+they filantrofists.&nbsp; Weel, he just talkit to them,
+ca&rsquo;ed them his children, and said that they shouldna resist
+legeetimate authority.&nbsp; Man, a wee wiry fella&rsquo;, he was
+the licht-weight champion wrestler at Tiki-Tiki, just up and
+said, &lsquo;Aye, aye, Sir George,&rsquo; though he wasna
+gi&rsquo;en him Sir George, but just some native name they had
+for him, &lsquo;we&rsquo;re a&rsquo; your children, but no sic
+children as to gie our land for naething.&rsquo;&nbsp; Sir George
+turnit the colour of a neep, ane o&rsquo; yon swedes, ye ken, and
+said nae mair.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How did they manage it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The Government just arranged matters wi&rsquo; the
+chiefs.&nbsp; Bribery, weel a&rsquo; weel, I&rsquo;ll no gae sae
+far as to impute ony corruption on them, but a Government, a
+Government, ye ken, is very apt to hae its way.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dam&rsquo;t, &rsquo;twas a fine country, a pairfect
+pairadise.&nbsp; I mind aince going oot with Captin Brigstock,
+Hell-fire Jock they ca&rsquo;ed him, after they
+bushrangers.&nbsp; There was ane Morgan frae Australlia
+bail&rsquo;t up a wheen folks, and dam&rsquo;t, says Captin
+Brigstock, ye&rsquo;ll hae to come, Campbell.&nbsp; Shot him,
+yes, authority must be respected, and the majesty o&rsquo; law
+properly vendeecated, or else things dinna <a
+name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+208</span>thrive.&nbsp; It was in a wood of gora-gora we came on
+him about the mouth of day.&nbsp; Morgan, ye ken, was boiling a
+billy in a sort o&rsquo; wee clearin&rsquo;, his horse tied to a
+tree close by, when Brigstock and the others came upon him.&nbsp;
+Brigstock just shouted in the name o&rsquo; the law and then let
+fly.&nbsp; Morgan, he fell across the fire, and when we all came
+up says he, &lsquo;Hell-fire, ye didna gie me ony chance,&rsquo;
+and the blood spouted from his mouth into the boiling pan.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Deid, &rsquo;oo aye, deid as Rob Roy.&nbsp; I dinna
+care to mind it.&nbsp; But a fine life, laird, nae slavin&rsquo;
+at the plough, but every ane goin&rsquo; aboot on horseback; and
+the bonny wee bit wooden huts, the folk no fashed wi&rsquo;
+furniture, but sittin&rsquo; doon to tak&rsquo; their tea upon
+the floor wi&rsquo; their backs against the wall.&nbsp;
+That&rsquo;s why they ca&rsquo;ed them squatters.&nbsp; They talk
+aboot Australlia and America, but if it hadna been for the old
+folks I would hae made my hame aboot a place ca&rsquo;ed
+Paratanga, and hae taken up with ane o&rsquo; they Maori girls,
+or maybe a half-caste.&nbsp; Married, weel, I widna say I hae
+gane to such a length.&nbsp; Dam&rsquo;t, a braw country, laird,
+a pairfect pairadise, I&rsquo;m telling ye;&rdquo; and then the
+rain grew thicker, and seemed to come between us as he plodded on
+towards the &ldquo;toon.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page209"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+209</span>VICTORY</h2>
+<p><a name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 211</span><span
+class="smcap">Ranks</span> upon ranks of rastaquo&egrave;res,
+Brazilians, Roumanians, Russians, Bulgarians, with battalions of
+Americans, all seated round the &ldquo;piazza&rdquo; of the Grand
+Hotel.&nbsp; Ladies from Boston, Chicago, and New York, their
+heels too high, their petticoats too much belaced, their Empire
+combs bediamonded so as to look almost like cut-glass
+chandeliers, as in their chairs they sat and read the latest news
+from Tampa, Santiago, and how Cervera&rsquo;s Squadron met the
+fate which they (the ladies) reckoned God prepares for those who
+dare to fight against superior odds.</p>
+<p>Outside upon the boulevards, cocottes, guides, cabmen, and
+androgynous young men, touts, and all those who hang about that
+caravansary where the dulcet Suffolk whine, made sharper by the
+air of Massachusetts, sounds, passed and repassed.</p>
+<p>Smug-faced, black-coated citizens from Buffalo and Albany, and
+from places like Detroit and Council Bluffs, to which the breath
+of fashion has not penetrated, scanned the <i>New York
+Herald</i>, read the glorious news, and, taking off their hats,
+deigned publicly to recognize the existence of a God, and after
+standing reverently silent, <a name="page212"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 212</span>masticating their green cigars in
+contemplation of His wondrous ways, to take a drink.</p>
+<p>Aquatic plants and ferns known only to hotels, and
+constituting a sub-family of plants, which by the survival of the
+ugliest have come at last to stand gas, dust, saliva, and an air
+befogged with Chypre, grew in the fountain where, in the tepid
+water, gold fish with swollen eyes, and blotched with patches of
+unhealthy white, swam to and fro, picking up crumbs and rising to
+the surface when some one threw a smoked-out cigarette into the
+basin, in the midst of which a fig-leaved Naiad held a stucco
+shell.</p>
+<p>The corridors were blocked with Saratoga trunks; perspiring
+porters staggered to and fro, bending beneath the weight of
+burdens compared to which a sailor&rsquo;s chest is as a
+pill-box.</p>
+<p>All went well; the tapes clicked off their international lies,
+detailing all the last quotations of the deep mines upon the
+Rand, the fall in Spanish Fours; in fact, brought home to those
+with eyes to see, the way in which the Stock Exchange had put a
+rascals&rsquo; ring around the globe.</p>
+<p>Waiters ran to and fro, their ears attuned to every outrage
+upon French, seeking to find the meaning of the jargons in which
+they were addressed.</p>
+<p>Majestic butlers in black knee-breeches, and girt about the
+neck with great brass chains, moved slowly up and down, so grave
+and so respectable that had you laid your hands upon any one of
+them <a name="page213"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 213</span>and
+made a bishop of him he would have graced the post.</p>
+<p>Mysterious, well-dressed men sat down beside you, and after a
+few words proposed to take you in the evening to show you
+something new.</p>
+<p>Women walked to and fro, glaring at one another as they had
+all been tigresses, or again, catching each other&rsquo;s eyes,
+reddened, and looked ashamed, as if aware, though strangers, that
+they understood the workings of the other&rsquo;s heart.</p>
+<p>Burano chandeliers and modern tapestry, with red brocade on
+the two well-upholstered chairs, imparted beauty and a look of
+wealth, making one feel as if by striking an electric bell a door
+would open and a troop of half-dressed women file into the court,
+after the fashion of another kind of inn.</p>
+<p>Outside the courtyard Paris roared, chattered, and yelped,
+cycles and automobiles made the poor <i>pi&eacute;ton&rsquo;s</i>
+life a misery, and set one thinking how inferior after all the
+Mind which thought out Eden was to our own.</p>
+<p>Upon the asphalt the horizontales lounged along, pushing
+against the likely-looking passer-by like cats against a
+chair.</p>
+<p>Cabs rattled, and the whole <i>clinquant</i> town wore its
+best air of unreality, which it puts off alone upon the morning
+of a revolution.</p>
+<p>Through boulevards, parvis, cit&eacute;s, along the quays, in
+the vast open spaces which, like Saharas of grey stone, make the
+town desolate, in caf&eacute;s, brothels, theatres, in church and
+studio, and <a name="page214"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+214</span>wherever men most congregate, groups stood about
+reading the news, gesticulating, weeping, perspiring, and agog
+with a half-impotent enthusiastic orgasm of wildest admiration
+for Spain, Cervera, and the men who without bunkum or illusion
+steamed to certain death.&nbsp; And, curiously enough, the
+execration fell not so much upon Chicago as on &ldquo;ces cochons
+d&rsquo;Anglais,&rdquo; who by their base connivance had wrought
+the ruin of the Spanish cause.</p>
+<p>Yankees themselves read and remarked with sneers that
+England&rsquo;s turn was coming next, and after
+&ldquo;Kewby,&rdquo; that they reckoned to drag the British flag
+through every dunghill in New York; then one winked furtively and
+said, &ldquo;We need them now, but afterwards we&rsquo;ll show
+Victoria in a cage for a picayune a peep, and teach the
+Britishers what to do with their old Union Jack,&rdquo; thinking
+no doubt of the ten-cent paper which is sold in every city of the
+States, stamped with the Spanish flag.</p>
+<p>And as I sat, musing on things and others&mdash;thinking, for
+instance, that when you scratch a man and see his blood you know
+his nature by the way he bears his wound, and that the Spaniards,
+wounded to the death, were dying game (after the fashion of the
+English in times gone by, before Imperialism, before the
+Nonconformist snuffle, the sweating system, and the rest had
+changed our nature), and that the Yankees at the first touch
+cried out like curs, though they had money, numbers, and
+everything upon their side&mdash;I fell a-thinking on the Spain
+of old.&nbsp; Inigo Lopez de <a name="page215"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 215</span>Mendoza, el Gran Capitan, Cortes
+(not at the siege of Mexico, but in the rout before Algiers) came
+up before me, and I thought on the long warfare, extending over
+seven hundred years, by which Spain saved the southern half of
+Europe from the Moors; upon Gerona, Zaragoza, and, most of all,
+upon Cervera, last of the Quixotes, Vara de Rey, Linares, and the
+poor peasants from Galician hills, thyme-scented wastes in Lower
+Aragon, Asturian mountains, and Estremenian oak-woods, who,
+battling against superior numbers, short of food, of ammunition,
+and bereft of hope, were proving their descent from the grim
+soldiers of the Spanish &ldquo;Tercios&rdquo; of the Middle Ages,
+and making the invaders of their country pay for their piracy in
+blood.</p>
+<p>Blood is the conqueror&rsquo;s coin the whole world over, and
+if the island which Columbus found for Spain pass into other
+hands, let those who take it pour out their blood like water to
+inaugurate their reign of peace.</p>
+<p>Where the connection between the senses and the brain comes
+in, which influences first, and how, or whether a wise
+Providence, always upon His guard (after the fashion of an
+operator in a Punch and Judy show), influences each man directly,
+as by celestial thought suggestion, I cannot tell.</p>
+<p>All that I know is, that once walking on the rampart gardens
+which in Cadiz overhang the sea and form the outside rim of the
+&ldquo;Taza de Plata,&rdquo; as the Spaniards call the town, I on
+a sudden saw <a name="page216"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+216</span>the River Plate.&nbsp; The Gauchos, plains, wild
+horses, the stony wastes, the ostriches (the &ldquo;Alegria del
+Desierto&rdquo;), came up before me, and in especial a certain
+pass over a little river called the Gualiyan; the sandy dip, the
+metallic-looking trees, the greenish river with the flamingoes
+and white herons and the black-headed swans; the vultures sitting
+motionless on the dead trees, and most of all the penetrating
+scent of the mimosa, known to the natives as the &ldquo;espinillo
+de olor.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Turning and wondering why, I saw a stunted tree with yellow
+blossoms duly ticketed with its description &ldquo;Mimosa&rdquo;
+this or that, and with its &ldquo;habitat&rdquo; the warmer
+district of the River Plate.</p>
+<p>I leave these things to wise philosophers and to those men of
+science who seem to think mankind is worth the martyrdom of
+living dogs and cats; or who, maybe, drag out the entrails of
+their quivering fellow-mortals merely to stimulate their senses
+or erotic powers.</p>
+<p>But the &ldquo;dwawm&rdquo; over, looking about, fenced in by
+swarms of overjoyed Americans, all talking shrilly, reading out
+the news, exultant at the triumph of their fleet, puffed up and
+arrogant as only the descendants of the Puritans can be, I saw a
+Spaniard sitting with his daughter, a girl about nineteen.</p>
+<p>Himself a Castellano rancio, silent and grave, dressed all in
+black, moustache waxed to a point, square little feet like boxes,
+brown little hands, face like mahogany, hair cropped close, and
+with the <a name="page217"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+217</span>unillusional fatalistic air of worldly wisdom mixed
+with simplicity which characterizes Spaniards of the older
+school.</p>
+<p>Being a Christian, he spoke no tongue but that which
+Christians use, was proud of it, proud of his ignorance, proud (I
+have no doubt) of his descent.</p>
+<p>No doubt he saw everything through the clear dazzling
+atmosphere of old Castille, which Spaniards of his kind seem to
+condense and carry off with them for use in other climes.</p>
+<p>Seeing so clearly, he saw nothing clear, for the intelligence
+of man is so contrived as to be ineffective if a mist of some
+sort is not interposed.</p>
+<p>The daughter fair, fair with the fairness of a Southern,
+blue-eyed, and skin like biscuit china, hands and feet fine, head
+well set on, and yet with the decided gestures and incisive
+speech, the &ldquo;aire recio,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;meneo&rdquo;
+of the hips in walking, of the women of her race.</p>
+<p>They sat some time before a pile of newspapers, the father
+smoking gravely, taking down the smoke as he were drinking it,
+and then in a few minutes breathing it out to serve as an
+embellishment to what he said, holding his cigarette meanwhile
+fixed in a little silver instrument contrived like two clasped
+hands.</p>
+<p>The Spanish newspapers were, of course, all without news, or
+said they had none, and as the daughter read, the old man
+punctuated with &ldquo;Valiente,&rdquo; &ldquo;Pobrecitas,&rdquo;
+and the like, when he heard how before El Caney, Vara de Rey had
+<a name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 218</span>died, or
+how the Americans had shot the three Sisters of the Poor whose
+bodies were found lying with lint and medicine in their
+hands.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Read me the papers of the Americans, hija de mi
+corazon,&rdquo; and she began, translating as she read.</p>
+<p>Reading of the whole agony, choking but self-possessed, she
+read: the <i>Vizcaya</i>, <i>Almirante Oquendo</i>, and the rest;
+the death of Villamil, he who at least redeemed the promise made
+to the Mother of his God in Cadiz before he put to sea.</p>
+<p>And as she read the old man gave no sign, sitting impassive as
+a fakir, or like an Indian warrior at the stake.</p>
+<p>She went on reading; the fleet steamed through the hell of
+shot and shell, took fire, was beached, blew up, and still he
+gave no sign.</p>
+<p>Cervera steps on board the conqueror&rsquo;s ship, weeping,
+gives up his sword, and the old man sat still.</p>
+<p>When all was finished, and the last vessel burning on the
+rocks, slowly the tears fell down his old brown cheeks, and he
+broke silence.&nbsp; &ldquo;Virgen de Guadalupe, has not one
+escaped?&rdquo; and the girl, looking at him through her now
+misty eyes, &ldquo;No, papa, God has so willed it. . . .&nbsp;
+What is wrong with your moustache?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Then, with an effort, he took down his grief, said quietly,
+&ldquo;I must change my hairdresser,&rdquo; got up, and offering
+his daughter his arm, walked out impassible, through the thick
+ranks of the defeated foe.</p>
+<h2><a name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+219</span>ROTHENBERGER&rsquo;S WEDDING</h2>
+<p><a name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 221</span><span
+class="smcap">Short</span> and broad-shouldered, with the flaxen
+hair and porcelain-coloured eyes of the true man of Kiel or
+Koenigsberg, Dr. Karl Rothenberger prided himself on being a
+townsman of the Great Kant, &ldquo;who make the critique of pure
+sense.&rdquo;&nbsp; For him in vain the modern mystic spread his
+nets; his mass, his psychological research, his ethics based on
+the saving of his own gelatinous soul, said nothing to the man of
+Koenigsberg.&nbsp; His work to minister by electricity to the
+rheumatic, the gouty; to those who had loved perhaps well, but
+certainly in a vicarious and post-prandial fashion; his passion
+fishing with a float; a &ldquo;goode felawe,&rdquo; not too
+refined, but yet well educated; his literary taste bounded by
+idealistic novels about materialistic folk, and the drum-taps of
+the bards of Anglo-Saxon militarism; the doctor looked on the
+world as a vast operating theatre, sparing not even his own
+foibles in his diagnosis of mankind.&nbsp; All sentiment he held
+if not accursed, yet as superfluous, and though he did not pride
+himself exactly on his opinions, knowing them well to be but the
+result of education, and of a few molecules of iron, more or
+less, in the <a name="page222"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+222</span>composition of his blood, yet would deliver them to all
+and sundry, as he were lecturing to students in a
+university.&nbsp; Women he held inferior to men, as really do
+almost all men, although they fear to say so; but again, he said,
+&ldquo;de womens they have occupy my mind since I was eighteen
+years.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So after many wanderings in divers lands, he came, as wise men
+will, to London, and set up his household gods in a vast
+plane-tree-planted square (with cat ground in the middle called a
+garden), and of which the residents each had a key, but never
+walked in, sat in, or used in any way, though all of them would
+have gone to the stake rather than see a member of the public
+enter into its sacred precincts, or a stray child play in it,
+unless attended by a nurse.</p>
+<p>Honours and fees fell thick on Rothenberger, and he became
+greatly belettered, member of many a learned, dull society.&nbsp;
+He duly purchased a degree; and squares and crescents quite a
+mile away sent out their patients, and were filled with the
+sonorous glory of his name.&nbsp; One thing was wanting, and that
+one thing troubled him not a little; but he yet saw it was
+inevitable if he would rise to Harley Street or Saville Row, and
+the sleek pair of horses which (without bearing-reins) testify to
+a doctor&rsquo;s status in the scientific world.&nbsp; A wife, or
+as he said, a &ldquo;real legitimate,&rdquo; to prove to all his
+patients that he was a moral man.&nbsp; Strange that the domestic
+arrangements of a public man should <a name="page223"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 223</span>militate for or against him; but so
+it is, at least in England, where even if a man cheat and spread
+ruin to thousands, yet he may find apologists, chiefly, of
+course, amongst that portion of the public who have not suffered
+by his delinquencies, so that his life be what is known as
+pure.&nbsp; Morals and purity in our group of islands seem to
+condone drunkenness, lies, and even theft (so that the sum stolen
+be large enough), and to have crystallized themselves into a
+censorship of precisely the very thing as to which no man or
+woman has the right to call another to account.</p>
+<p>So Rothenberger, looking about for a vessel by means of which
+to purify himself (and push his business), lit on a girl with
+money, living, as he said, &ldquo;oot by Hampstead way;&rdquo;
+went through the process known as courting, in a mixture of
+German and of English, eked out with Plaat-Deutsch, and finally
+induced the lady to fix the day on which to make him pure.&nbsp;
+Science and business jointly having so taken up his time that he
+had learnt but little English, he was at some loss, and left
+arrangements to the family of his intended wife.</p>
+<p>Not knowing English customs, he had written asking in what
+costume he should appear on the great day, and received a letter
+telling him to make his appearance at the church duly dressed in
+a tall hat, light trousers, and a new frock coat.&nbsp; Frock
+coat he read as &ldquo;frac,&rdquo; and ordered wedding garments
+such as he thought suitable, with the <a name="page224"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 224</span>addition of a brand-new evening
+coat.&nbsp; The wedding breakfast having been ordered at the
+Hotel Metropole, he there transferred himself, proposing to pass
+the night before his final entry into moral life quietly and
+decently, as befits one about to change his state.&nbsp; But as
+he said, &ldquo;God or some other thing was of another
+mind,&rdquo; for when I was arriving at the place, mein head feel
+heavy, and I was out of sorts, and when I ring the bell, a
+housemaid answer it wit a hot-water jug, and came into the
+room.&nbsp; Himmel, what for a girl, black hair like
+horse&rsquo;s tail, great glear plue eyes, and tall and fat, it
+was a miracle.&nbsp; I fall in love wit her almost at once, but I
+say nothings, only wink little at her with my eye.&nbsp; All the
+night long I could not schleep, thinking part of the housemaid,
+part of mein wife, and part if perhaps I was not going to do a
+very silly ding.&nbsp; When it was morning I have quite forgot
+the church, but still remember what the clergyman was like.&nbsp;
+So I go to the porter (he was a landsman of my own), and ask him
+to get me a cab, and then explain, I was to be married oot by
+Hampstead way, that morning at eleven and half
+o&rsquo;clock.&nbsp; The porter say what church shall I tell the
+schelm to drive to, but mein Got I have forgot.&nbsp; So I say,
+go to Hampstead, and I will go to all the churches and ask if a
+German is to be married, till I find the right one out.&nbsp; The
+cabman think that I was mad, and I get into the cab dressed in
+clear trousers, white waistcoat, and plue necktie, mit little
+spot; <a name="page225"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+225</span>shiny new boots that hurt me very much; with yellow
+gloves three-quarter-eight in size, and with my new
+&ldquo;frac&rdquo; coat, so that I think myself, eh,
+Rothenberger, was that really you?&nbsp; The cabman wink mit de
+porter, and we start away.&nbsp; We drive and drive, first to one
+church and then another, and I always ask, is it in this church
+that a German is to be marry at half twelve o&rsquo;clock?&nbsp;
+Dey grin at me, and every one say no.&nbsp; De dime approach, and
+I was sweating in the cab, not knowing what they say if at half
+twelve o&rsquo;clock I not turn up to time.&nbsp; At last looking
+out from the window I see the clergyman walking along the street
+mit a big hymnbook in his hand.&nbsp; I cry to him, Ach Himmel,
+it is I, Karl Rothenberger, that you must marry at half twelve
+o&rsquo;clock.&nbsp; He stop, and shomp into the cab, and then we
+drive to church.</p>
+<p>All was so glad to see me, for I hear one say, I thought the
+German must have change his mind.&nbsp; I ran into the church,
+and my wife say, What for a costume is it that you have?&nbsp;
+Frock coat and clear grey pants, dat is not wedding dress; so I
+say I know dat, but why you write to me, mind and buy a new
+&ldquo;frac coat&rdquo;?</p>
+<p>They mumble out their stuff, and when the clergyman ask me if
+I want this woman for mein wife, I say, all right, and all the
+people laugh like everythings.&nbsp; Then when he say, I, Karl,
+do promise and etcetera, I say, dat is so, and de people laugh
+again.&nbsp; At last it all was done, and we drive off to <a
+name="page226"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 226</span>the hotel
+to have the breakfast, and mein wife look beautiful in her new
+travelling dress.&nbsp; At the hotel the company was met, and I
+go up to mein apartment to change the dam frac coat, to wash mein
+hands, and put a little brillantine on my moustache, whilst mein
+wife mit the bridesmaids go to another room, and all the company
+was waiting down below.</p>
+<p>I want hot water, so I rang the bell, and the stout pretta
+chambermaid she bring it in a jug.&nbsp; How the thing pass I
+never knew till now, but I wink at her, and she laugh, and
+then&mdash;she put down the jug, just for a moment,&mdash;for the
+company, mein wife, her father, and the bridesmaids, all was
+waiting down below.&nbsp; So I come down and make mein speech,
+talk to the bridesmaids, and we eat like anythings, and then we
+drive away to pass our honeymoon, and somehow I feel mein head
+much lighter than before.&nbsp; Marriage is good for man, it
+sober him, it bring him business, and it bring him children, and
+. . .&nbsp; I am happy mit my wife . . .&nbsp; The housemaid, oh
+yes, ach Got, I hear that some one take from the place to live
+mit him, and it is not a wonder, for she was so tall, so stout,
+have such black hair, and such great eyes, it was a pity that she
+spend her life answering the bell, and bringing up hot water in a
+jug.</p>
+<h2><a name="page227"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 227</span>LA
+CLEMENZA DE TITO</h2>
+<p><a name="page229"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 229</span><span
+class="smcap">The</span> hotel paper had a somewhat misguiding
+&ldquo;Comfort&rdquo; as its telegraphic address.&nbsp; Upon the
+walls were reproductions of sporting prints by Leech, depicting
+scions of the British aristocracy taking their pleasures not so
+very sadly after all, and easily demonstrating their superiority
+to several smock-frocked rustics by galloping close past them,
+and shouting &ldquo;Tally-ho,&rdquo; holding their left ear
+between their thumb and finger to emphasize the note.&nbsp;
+Apollinaris and whisky splits, Fritz Rupprecht&rsquo;s
+&ldquo;Special,&rdquo; with other advertisements of a like
+nature, filled up the blanks between the oleographs.&nbsp;
+<i>Iron and Commerce</i>, with the <i>Cook&rsquo;s Excursionist
+and Engineering</i>, lay untouched upon the tables, serving to
+show that if some books be not real books at all, there are
+newspapers which are, as it were, but dummies, holding no police
+news, football specials, murders, assaults on women, divorce
+cases, and other items which the educated public naturally
+expects within their sheets.&nbsp; Slipshod and futile, but
+attentive German waiters, went about bringing hot whisky, whisky
+and soda, whisky and lemonade, and whisky neat <a
+name="page230"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 230</span>to the
+belated customers.&nbsp; Upon the tables glasses had made great
+rings, commercial travellers had left their pigskin satchels in a
+heap, and, by the fire, a group of travellers sat silently
+drinking after the Scottish fashion, and spitting in the
+grate.&nbsp; Twelve o&rsquo;clock, half-past twelve, then one by
+one they dropped away murmuring good-night, and setting down
+their glasses with an air of having worked manfully for a good
+night&rsquo;s repose.</p>
+<p>Still I sat on gazing into the fire, and almost unaware that
+on the other side sat a companion of my vigil, till at last he
+said, &ldquo;Do you know Yambo, sir?&rdquo; and to my vague
+assent rejoined, &ldquo;Yambo on the Arabian coast, just opposite
+Hodeida, where vessels in the pilgrim trade discharge their
+&lsquo;niggers.&rsquo;&nbsp; It&rsquo;s the port for Mecca, that
+is, the &lsquo;Sambaks&rsquo; used to put in there, but now we do
+the traffic right from Mogador.&rdquo;&nbsp; I looked with
+interest at the man, liking his Demosthenic style of opening
+remarks.&nbsp; Tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in navy blue,
+boots like small packing-cases, and a green necktie in which was
+stuck a cairngorm pin; he wore a silver watch-chain with a small
+steering-wheel attached to it; not quite a sailor, yet a look of
+the sea about his clothes; he had a face open and innocent, yet
+wrinkled round the eyes like a young elephant, and struck me as
+being, perhaps not foolish, certainly not wise, but with a tinge
+of worldly wisdom gathered in seaport towns, at music-halls, and
+other places where those who go down <a name="page231"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 231</span>to the sea in ships gain their
+experience of life.&nbsp; &ldquo;Yambo,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;I
+thought that Jeddah was the port the pilgrims landed
+at.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Well, so it is,&rdquo; he said,
+&ldquo;but I was thinking about Yambo, been there a many times,
+used to run arms for the tribes to fight the Turks, when I was
+fourth engineer in the old <i>Pyramus</i>.&nbsp; Yes, yes,
+I&rsquo;ve been at sea most all my life, though my old dad keeps
+a slap-up hotel at Weston-super-Mare.&nbsp; No need to go to sea,
+no, but you know some folks would go to hell for pleasure, and I
+suppose I&rsquo;m one.&nbsp; Dad, you know&mdash;now were you
+ever at Weston-super-Mare?&mdash;is fond of literature, does a
+bit himself, Chambers you know; mostly upon the conchology and
+the fossils of the South Devon coast; awfully fond of it, and so
+am I, nothing I like better than, after getting out of the
+engine-room, to lie on deck and read one of Bulwer&rsquo;s books
+or Dickens&rsquo;s, both of them stunning.&nbsp; No, I never
+write myself.&nbsp; Can&rsquo;t make out what set me thinking
+about Yambo.&nbsp; What! you won&rsquo;t?&nbsp; Well, waiter,
+waiter, Gar&ccedil;ong, as we used to say at Suez, another
+whisky, slippy, you know.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ve always been a
+temperate man, but like a nightcap before turning in.&nbsp; Perim
+ain&rsquo;t so far off from Yambo; ah yes, now I remember what it
+was I had to say.&nbsp; You know them Galla girls? prime,
+ain&rsquo;t they?&nbsp; But Perim, I remember being Shanghaied
+there, nothing to do, a beastly hole; sand, beastly, gets in your
+socks, gets in your hair, makes you feel dirty, no matter how you
+wash.&nbsp; <a name="page232"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+232</span>Well, you know, there were about two hundred of us
+there, some kind of Government work was going on, and I was left
+there out of my ship, kind of loaned off, you see, to help the
+Johnnies at the condensing works.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ve been at Suez,
+Yambo as I told you, Rangoon, down at Talcahuano on the Chilean
+coast, wrecked in Smythe&rsquo;s Channel, and been about a bit,
+but Perim fairly takes the cake, not even a sheet of
+blotting-paper between it and hell.&nbsp; As I was saying, then,
+we were cooped up, and not a woman in the place; even the
+Government saw it at last, thought maybe worse would happen if
+they did nothing, and sent and got six of them Galla girls.&nbsp;
+Leastwise, if they didn&rsquo;t send for them, they let a
+Levantine, Mirandy was his name, introduce them on the strict
+Q.T.&nbsp; Well, you know, the thing was like this, sir&mdash;you
+know them Galla girls, black as a boot and skins always as cool
+as ice, even in a khamsin; some people says they are better than
+white girls; but not in mine; but anyhow they&rsquo;ve got no
+&lsquo;Bookay d&rsquo;Afreek&rsquo; about them, it always turns
+me sick.&nbsp; As I was saying, I thought I&rsquo;d have a
+&lsquo;pasear&rsquo; one evening, so I lemonaded up to the
+&lsquo;Mansion,&rsquo; and began talking to one of them girls,
+sort of to pass the time.&nbsp; Serpent upon the rocks, eh? well,
+that old Solomon knew something about girls.&nbsp; Now here comes
+in the curious thing, it always strikes me just as if I&rsquo;d
+read it in a book; Dickens now or Thackeray could have
+&rsquo;andled it, Bulwer would &rsquo;ave made it a little <a
+name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+233</span>loosious.&nbsp; Just as the gal was taking off her
+things&mdash;oh, no offence, captain, I&rsquo;m telling you the
+thing just as it happened&mdash;I saw she had a crucifix
+a-hanging round her neck.&nbsp; Papist?&nbsp; Oh no, not much;
+father, he sat under Rev. Hiles Hitchens, light of the
+Congregationalists.&nbsp; No, no, nothing to do with Rome, never
+could bear the influence of the confessor in a family.&nbsp; A
+little free myself, especially below latitude forty, but at
+&rsquo;ome and in the family I like things ship-shape.&nbsp;
+Well, as I said, round her black neck she had a silver crucifix,
+contrast of colour made the thing stand out double the
+size.&nbsp; Ses I, &lsquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rsquo; and she says,
+&lsquo;Klistian girl, Johnny, me Klistian all the same
+you.&rsquo;&nbsp; That was a stopper over all, and I just reached
+for my hat, says, &lsquo;Klistian are yer,&rsquo; and I gave her
+two of them Spanish dollars and a kiss, and quit the place.&nbsp;
+What did she say?&nbsp; Why, nothing, looked at me and laughed,
+and says, &lsquo;You Klistian, Johnny, plenty much damn
+fool.&rsquo;&nbsp; No, I don&rsquo;t know what she meant, I done
+my duty, and that&rsquo;s all I am concerned about.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Another half, just a split whisky and
+Apollinaris.&nbsp; Well, if you won&rsquo;t, good-night;&rdquo;
+and the door slammed, leaving me gazing at the fast-blackening
+fire.</p>
+<h2><a name="page235"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+235</span>SOHAIL</h2>
+<p><a name="page237"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 237</span><span
+class="smcap">Sohail</span> is the Arabic name of the star
+Canopus, to which a curious belief belongs.&nbsp; It appears that
+in some fashion, known alone to Allah, the fate of the Arab race
+is bound up with the star.&nbsp; Where it sheds its light their
+empire flourishes, and there alone.&nbsp; Wherefore or why the
+thing is so, no true believer seems to know, but that it is so he
+is well aware, and that suffices him.</p>
+<p>Questionings and doubts, changes of costume and religion,
+striving for ideals, improvements, telegraphs and telephones, are
+well enough for Christians, whose lives are passed in hurry and
+in hunting after gold.&nbsp; For those who have changed but
+little for the last two thousand years, in dress, in faith and
+customs, it is enough to know it is a talismanic star.&nbsp; Let
+star-gazers and those who deal in books, dub the star Alpha (or
+Beta) Argo, it is all one to Arabs.&nbsp; If you question
+knowledge, say the Easterns, it falls from its estate.&nbsp; If
+this is so the empiric method has much to answer for.&nbsp;
+Knowledge and virtue and a horse&rsquo;s mouth should not pass
+through too many hands.&nbsp; Knowledge is absolute, and even
+argument but dulls it, and strips <a name="page238"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 238</span>it of its authenticity, as the bloom
+of a ripe peach is lost, almost by looking on it.</p>
+<p>Of one thing there can be no doubt.&nbsp; When in the Yemen,
+ages before the first historian penned the fable known as
+history, the Arabs, watching their flocks, observed Sohail, it
+seems to have struck them as a star differing from all the
+rest.</p>
+<p>Al-Makkari writes of it on several occasions.&nbsp; The
+Dervish Abderahman Sufi of Rai, in his <i>Introduction to the
+Starry Heavens</i>, remarks that, at the feet of Sohail is seen,
+in the neighbourhood of Bagdad, a &ldquo;curious white
+spot.&rdquo;&nbsp; The &ldquo;curious white spot&rdquo;
+astronomers have thought to be the greater of the two Magellan
+clouds.&nbsp; Perhaps it is so, but I doubt if the Arabs, as a
+race, were concerned about the matter, so that they saw the
+star.</p>
+<p>From wandering warring tribes Mohammed made a nation of
+them.&nbsp; Mohammed died and joined the wife in paradise, of
+whom he said, &ldquo;By Allah, she shall sit at my right hand,
+because when all men laughed she clave to me.&rdquo;&nbsp; Then
+came Othman, Ali, and the rest, and led them into other lands, to
+Irak, Damascus, El Hind, to Ifrikia, lastly to Spain, and still
+their empire waxed, even across the &ldquo;black waters&rdquo; of
+the seas, and still Sohail was there to shine upon them.&nbsp; In
+the great adventure, one of the few in which a people has
+engaged; when first Tarik landed his Berbers on the rock which
+bears his name; at the battle on <a name="page239"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 239</span>the Guadalete where the king, Don
+Roderick, disappeared from the eyes of men, leaving his golden
+sandals by a stream; to Seville, Cordoba, and Murcia, the land of
+Teodmir ben Gobdos, to which the Arabs gave the name of Masr,
+right up to Zaragoza, Sohail accompanied the host.&nbsp; A
+curious host it must have been with Muza riding on a mule, and
+with but two-and-twenty camels to carry all its baggage.&nbsp;
+From Jativa to Huesca of the Bell, where King Ramiro, at the
+instigation of Abbot Frotardo (a learned man), cut off his
+nobles&rsquo; heads as they were poppies in a field, they
+followed it across the Pyrenees, halting at the spot where from
+his &ldquo;Camp in Aquitaine&rdquo; Muza dispatched a messenger
+to Rome to tell the Pope that he was coming to take him by the
+beard if he refused Islam.&nbsp; Then the wise men (who always
+march with armies), looking aloft at night, declared the star was
+lost.&nbsp; Although they smote the Christian dogs, taking their
+lands, their daughters, horses, and their gold, on several
+occasions as Allah willed it, yet victory was not so stable as in
+Spain.&nbsp; Perhaps beyond the mountains their spirits fell from
+lack of sun, or their horses sickened in the fat plains of
+France.</p>
+<p>Then the conquering tide had spent itself and flowed back into
+Spain; at Zaragoza the first Moorish kingdom rose.&nbsp;
+Al-Makkari writes that at that time Sohail was visible in Upper
+Aragon, but low on the horizon.&nbsp; Again the Christians <a
+name="page240"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 240</span>conquered,
+and the royal race of Aben Hud fled from the city.&nbsp; Ibn
+Jaldun relates that, shortly afterwards, Sohail became invisible
+from Aragon.&nbsp; The Cid, Rodrigo Diaz, he of Vivar (may God
+remember him), prevailed against Valencia, and from thence the
+star, indignant, took its departure.&nbsp; And so of Jativa, Beni
+Carlo, and Alpuixech.</p>
+<p>Little by little Elche, with its palm-woods, and even Murcia
+bade it good-bye, as one by one, in the centuries of strife, the
+Christians in succession conquered each one of them.&nbsp; At
+last the belief gained ground that, only at one place in Spain,
+called from the circumstance Sohail, could the star be
+seen.&nbsp; At Fuengirola, between Malaga and Marbella, still
+stands the little town the Arabs called Sohail, lost amongst
+sand-hills, looking across at Africa, of which it seems to form a
+part; cactus and olive, cane-brake and date palms, its chiefest
+vegetation; in summer, hot as Bagdad, in winter, sheltered from
+the winds which come from Christendom by the Sierras of the
+Alpujarra and Segura.&nbsp; Surely there the star would stop, and
+let the Arab power flourish under its influence, and there for
+centuries it did stand stationary.&nbsp; The City of the
+Pomegranate was founded, the Alhambra, with its brilliant court,
+the Generalife; and poets, travellers, and men of science
+gathered at Granada, Cordoba, and at Isbilieh.&nbsp; Ab-Motacim,
+the poet king of Cordoba, planted the hills with almond trees, to
+give the effect of snow, which Romaiquia longed <a
+name="page241"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 241</span>for.&nbsp;
+He wrote his <i>Kasidas</i>, and filled the courtyard full of
+spices and sugar for his queen to trample on, when she saw the
+women of the brick-makers kneading the clay with naked feet, and
+found her riches but a burden to her.&nbsp; Averroes and
+Avicenna, the doctors of medicine and of law, laid down their
+foolish rules of practice and of conduct, and all went
+well.&nbsp; Medina-el-Azahra, now a pile of stones where
+shepherds sleep or make believe to watch their sheep, where once
+the Caliph entertained the ambassador from Constantinople,
+showing him the golden basin full of quicksilver, &ldquo;like a
+great ocean,&rdquo; rose from the arid hills, and seemed
+eternal.&nbsp; Allah appeared to smile upon his people, and in
+proof of it let his star shine.&nbsp; Jehovah though was
+jealous.&nbsp; A jealous God, evolved by Jews and taken upon
+trust by Christians, could not endure the empire of Islam.&nbsp;
+Again town after town was conquered, Baeza, Loja, Antequera,
+Guadix and Velez-Malaga, even Alhama (Woe is me, Alhama), lastly
+Granada.&nbsp; Then came the kingdom of the Alpujarra, with the
+persecutions and the rebellions, Arabs and Christians fighting
+like wolves and torturing one another for the love of their
+respective Gods.&nbsp; Yet the star lingered on at Fuengirola,
+and whilst it still was seen hope was not lost.&nbsp; A century
+elapsed, and from Gibraltar&mdash;from the spot where first they
+landed&mdash;the last Moors embarked.&nbsp; In Spain, where once
+they ruled from Jaca to Tarifa, no Moor <a
+name="page242"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 242</span>was
+left.&nbsp; Perhaps about the mountain villages of Ronda a few
+remained, but christianized by force, the sword and faggot ever
+the best spurs to the true faith.&nbsp; But they were not the
+folk to think of stars or legends, so that no one (of the true
+faith) could say whether Sohail still lingered over Spain.</p>
+<p>Trains, telegraphs, and phonographs, elections and debates in
+parliament, with clothes unsuited to the people they deform, give
+a false air of Europe to the land.&nbsp; The palm-trees, cactus,
+canes, and olives, the tapia walls, the women&rsquo;s walk and
+eyes, the horses&rsquo; paces, and the fatalistic air which hangs
+on everything, give them the lie direct.&nbsp; The empire of the
+Arabs, though departed, yet retains its hold.&nbsp; The hands
+that built the mosque at Cordoba, the Giralda, the Alhambra, and
+almost every parish church in Southern Spain, from ruined
+aqueduct and mosque, sign to the Christian half derisively.&nbsp;
+So all the land from the gaunt northern mountains to the hot
+swamps along the Guad-el-Kebir (stretching from Seville to San
+Lucar) is part of Africa.&nbsp; The reasons are set forth
+lengthily by the ethnographers, economists, and the grave foolish
+rout of those who write for people who know nothing, of what they
+do not understand themselves.</p>
+<p>But the star&rsquo;s lingering is the real cause, and whilst
+it lingers things can never really go on in Spain as they go on
+in England, where gloom obscures all stars.&nbsp; The Arabs,
+issuing from the desert like the khamsin, came, conquered, and <a
+name="page243"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 243</span>possessed,
+their star shone on them, and its rays sank deep into the
+land.&nbsp; Their empire waned, and they, retreating, disappeared
+into the sands from whence they sprang.&nbsp; Spain knows them
+not, but yet their influence remains.&nbsp; Only at Cadiz can the
+talisman be seen, shining low down on the horizon, and still
+waiting till the precession of the equinoxes takes it across the
+Straits.&nbsp; Let it recross, and shine upon the old wild life
+of the vast plains, upon the horsemen flying on the sands,
+whirling and circling like gulls, whilst the veiled women raise
+the joyous cry which pierces ears and soul; upon the solemn
+stately men who sit and look at nothing all a summer&rsquo;s day,
+and above all upon the waveless inland sea men call the
+Sahara.</p>
+<p>There may it shine for ever on the life unchanged since the
+Moalakat, when first the rude astronomers observed the talisman
+and framed the legend on some starry night, all seated on the
+ground.</p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">THE
+END</span></p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Richard Clay
+&amp; Sons</span>, <span class="smcap">Limited</span>,<br />
+<span class="smcap">London &amp; Bungay</span>.</p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<h2>NOTES.</h2>
+<p><a name="footnote20"></a><a href="#citation20"
+class="footnote">[20]</a>&nbsp; A redomon is a half-tamed
+horse.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote26"></a><a href="#citation26"
+class="footnote">[26]</a>&nbsp; Hydrochoerus capybara.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote32"></a><a href="#citation32"
+class="footnote">[32]</a>&nbsp; The Gauchos often lay a deer-skin
+on their saddles, and wear boots made of deer-skin, alleging that
+serpents are afraid to touch them.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote46"></a><a href="#citation46"
+class="footnote">[46]</a>&nbsp; Accustomed pasture.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote51"></a><a href="#citation51"
+class="footnote">[51]</a>&nbsp; The Brazilians call the tapir
+&ldquo;O gran besta.&rdquo;&nbsp; The Guarani word is
+Mborebi.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote52"></a><a href="#citation52"
+class="footnote">[52]</a>&nbsp; Potrero is a fenced pasture, from
+&ldquo;potro,&rdquo; a colt.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote54a"></a><a href="#citation54a"
+class="footnote">[54a]</a>&nbsp; &ldquo;Matto&rdquo; is a wood in
+Portuguese, and at these two Mattos, tradition says, the rival
+armies had encamped.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote54b"></a><a href="#citation54b"
+class="footnote">[54b]</a>&nbsp; Except for the Gaelic
+&ldquo;larach,&rdquo; I know no word in any language which
+exactly corresponds to &ldquo;tapera,&rdquo; as indicating the
+foundations of a house grassed over.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote56a"></a><a href="#citation56a"
+class="footnote">[56a]</a>&nbsp; Called <i>Superior de las
+misiones</i>.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote56b"></a><a href="#citation56b"
+class="footnote">[56b]</a>&nbsp; Feliz de Azara, <i>Description y
+Historia del Paraguay</i>.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote56c"></a><a href="#citation56c"
+class="footnote">[56c]</a>&nbsp; Es menester convenir, en que
+aunque los padres manda ban alli en todo, usaron de su autoridad
+con una suavidad y moderacion que no puede menos de
+admirarse.&mdash;Azara, <i>Historia del Paraguay</i>, Tom. 1, p.
+282: Madrid 1847.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote60a"></a><a href="#citation60a"
+class="footnote">[60a]</a>&nbsp; Piptadenia communis.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote60b"></a><a href="#citation60b"
+class="footnote">[60b]</a>&nbsp; Acacia maleolens.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote60c"></a><a href="#citation60c"
+class="footnote">[60c]</a>&nbsp; Vitex Taruma.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote60d"></a><a href="#citation60d"
+class="footnote">[60d]</a>&nbsp; Genipa Americana.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote62"></a><a href="#citation62"
+class="footnote">[62]</a>&nbsp; &ldquo;Estero&rdquo; is the word
+used in Paraguay for a marsh.&nbsp; These marshes are generally
+hard at the bottom, so that you splash through them for leagues
+without danger, though the water is often up to the horse&rsquo;s
+girths.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote63a"></a><a href="#citation63a"
+class="footnote">[63a]</a>&nbsp; Alazan tostado antes muerto que
+cansado.&nbsp; The Arabs think highly of the dark chestnut.&nbsp;
+See the Emir Abdul Kader on Horsemanship.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote63b"></a><a href="#citation63b"
+class="footnote">[63b]</a>&nbsp; The Yatai is a dwarf palm.&nbsp;
+It is the Cocos Yatais of botanists.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote63c"></a><a href="#citation63c"
+class="footnote">[63c]</a>&nbsp; Cattle-farm.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote69"></a><a href="#citation69"
+class="footnote">[69]</a>&nbsp; Cocos Australis.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote78"></a><a href="#citation78"
+class="footnote">[78]</a>&nbsp; Guazu is big, in Guarani.</p>
+<p><a name="footnote131"></a><a href="#citation131"
+class="footnote">[131]</a>&nbsp; It had a chorus reflecting upon
+convent discipline:</p>
+<blockquote><p>&ldquo;For though the convent rule was strict and
+tight,<br />
+She had her exits and her entrances by night.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p><a name="footnote170a"></a><a href="#citation170a"
+class="footnote">[170a]</a>&nbsp; &ldquo;Medias hasta la
+berija<br />
+Con cada ojo como un charco,<br />
+Y cada ceja era un arco<br />
+Para correr la sortija.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><a name="footnote170b"></a><a href="#citation170b"
+class="footnote">[170b]</a>&nbsp; &ldquo;En un overo rosao,
+fletel lindo y parejito,<br />
+Cayo al bajo al trotecito, y lindamente sentao.<br />
+Un paisano del Bragao, de apelativo Laguna,<br />
+Mozo ginetazo ahijuna, como creo que no hay otro<br />
+Capaz a llevar un potro a sofrenarlo en la luna.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIRTEEN STORIES***</p>
+<pre>
+
+
+***** This file should be named 48510-h.htm or 48510-h.zip******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/8/5/1/48510
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
+be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
+law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
+so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
+States without permission and without paying copyright
+royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
+of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
+and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
+specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
+eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
+for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
+performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given
+away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks
+not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the
+trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.
+
+START: FULL LICENSE
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
+Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
+destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
+possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
+Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
+by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
+person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
+1.E.8.
+
+1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
+agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
+Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
+of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
+works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
+States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
+United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
+claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
+displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
+all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
+that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
+free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
+works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
+Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
+comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
+same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
+you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
+in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
+check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
+agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
+distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
+other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
+representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
+country outside the United States.
+
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
+immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
+prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
+on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
+performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
+
+  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+  most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
+  restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
+  under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
+  eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
+  United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you
+  are located before using this ebook.
+
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
+derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
+contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
+copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
+the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
+redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
+either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
+obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
+trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
+additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
+will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
+posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
+beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
+any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
+to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
+other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
+version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
+(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
+to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
+of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
+Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
+full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+provided that
+
+* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
+  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
+  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
+  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
+  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
+  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
+  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
+  Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
+  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
+  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
+  works.
+
+* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
+  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
+  receipt of the work.
+
+* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
+are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
+from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
+Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
+Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
+contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
+or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
+other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
+cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
+with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
+with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
+lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
+or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
+opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
+the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
+without further opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
+OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
+damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
+violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
+agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
+limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
+unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
+remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
+accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
+production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
+including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
+the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
+or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
+additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
+Defect you cause.
+
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
+computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
+exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
+from people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
+generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
+Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
+www.gutenberg.org 
+
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary 
+Archive Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
+U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
+mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
+volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
+locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
+Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to
+date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
+official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+
+    Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+    Chief Executive and Director
+    gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
+DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
+state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
+donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
+freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
+distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
+volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
+the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
+necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
+edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
+facility: www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+</pre></body>
+</html>
diff --git a/48510-h/images/tpb.jpg b/48510-h/images/tpb.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..693558a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/48510-h/images/tpb.jpg
diff --git a/48510-h/images/tps.jpg b/48510-h/images/tps.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1bd12ca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/48510-h/images/tps.jpg
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d72891e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #48510 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48510)