The Broncho Rider Boys with the Texas Rangers Part 5

"He means the Rio Grande," explained Adrian. "The Mexicans call it the Rio Brava, and that is the way it is on their maps. I saw one of their geographies once."

"Then we're going back to the Rio Brava," laughed Billie, "and I hope we get there before it begins to rain."

Whereupon, bidding good-by to Pedro, who was most profound in his thanks, they started on their return ride.

They had not been riding more than half an hour before the clouds, which had been getting blacker and blacker, became so angry-looking that they determined to seek shelter, and turned their horses' heads toward one of the little cl.u.s.ter of houses they had pa.s.sed earlier in the day.

CHAPTER V.

A NIGHT IN A MEXICAN KITCHEN.

By the time the boys reached the little cl.u.s.ter of adobe buildings, the rain was descending in torrents, and, in spite of the tropical surroundings, the air was much too cold to be comfortable. As they approached the first house on the outskirts of the hamlet, the door opened and a blanketed peon, preceded by half a dozen dogs of all kinds and conditions, made his appearance. Rushing at the horses, the dogs made the neighborhood hideous with their barking, but they made no attempt to do more.

"What do you want?" called out the man, speaking in Spanish.

"Call off your dogs," replied Donald, "so we can talk with you."

The man did as requested, and the animals grouped themselves around him in the doorway.

"We want a place to get in out of the rain and something to eat," Donald continued, as soon as the barking had ceased.

"There is no place here," replied the peon.

"What is this building?" and Donald pointed at a small hut at one side, which was covered with a thatched roof.

"It's the kitchen."

"What does he say?" asked Billie, who hadn't been able to gain the faintest idea of the conversation.

"He says that's the kitchen," replied Adrian.

"Huh!" grunted Billie, "looks more like a pigpen."

"What's the matter with our going in there until it stops raining?"

continued Donald, pressing his inquiries.

"You can go in there, if you want to, but there is nothing for you to eat."

"No eggs?"

"No."

"No tortillas?"

"No."

"No frijolles?"

"No."

"We will pay you well," added Donald.

The peon's manner underwent a remarkable change.

"Perhaps the _senora_ has a few tortillas," he said. "I'll go and see."

He turned and quickly entered the house, returning in a minute to say that there were both tortillas-corn cakes-and beans, and inviting the boys to alight.

"There is no room in my _casa_," he said, "but, if the young _senores_ will be satisfied to go into the kitchen, I will make a fire and the _senora_ will get them something to eat."

The boys needed no second bidding, and, quickly dismounting, they threw their bridle-reins over some cactus growing about, and went inside.

"I'd rather eat out of doors," declared Billie, after looking the place over.

"So would I," said Adrian, "if it were not for the rain."

"Oh, I don't know," ventured Donald philosophically, "I've seen worse places than this. Do you remember the Zunis?"

"It was always dry there," declared Billie.

"Yes, and there were always plenty of snakes," laughed Adrian, who never had forgotten Billie's aversion to reptiles since his visit to the snake dancers.

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the peon's wife, who proceeded to make a fire in the Mexican range, as the boys called the few bricks set up on edge. From a little earthen dish she produced a few thin corn cakes, which she toasted over the fire. When they were properly done, she put them on a dish and poured over them a couple of spoonfuls of black beans. These she offered to the boys to eat.

Billie looked at it askance.

"I thought I was glad to eat a woman's cooking at Presidio last night,"

he said. "If this is a sample of Mexican women's cooking, I'd rather get my own meals."

However, they were all hungry, and the beans and tortillas soon disappeared.

"How much are you going to pay him for this, Don?" queried Adrian. "You said you would pay him well."

"I don't know. Do you think fifty cents is enough?"

"Try him and see."

Donald took a silver half dollar from his pocket and held it out toward the man, who had been watching the boys in silence. He looked stupidly at it, but made no move to take it.

"Don't you want it?" asked Donald.

"No, _senor_; it is too much."

"How much do you want?"