The Guerilla Chief Part 38

from one o' these Mexikins in the twinklin' o' a goat's eye. Can't I, Bill?"

"Yes, siree," responded Bill.

"Yer say ye didn't see her when we k.u.m up. That aint nothin' strange.

She war kivered with sweat an' dust, inch deep; besides, she wur thin then as old bull in enow time. She aint to say fat yit, but she's improved some, I reckin'. Aint she, Bill?"

"A dog-goned heap," was the ready response of Bill. I was so taken with the appearance of the beautiful creature, that I determined to run the risk, and purchase her. I might have to give her up again to some gentleman claiming his property; but, thought I, I can easily recover my money, as the Ranger will be glad to pay it back to me, rather than spend his time in the guardhouse.

"How much?" I asked, having made up my mind to buy.

"The zact figger yer want?"

"Yes, the exact figure."

"Two-fifty: cheap enough, I reckin'. Aint it, Bill?"

"Dog cheap," was the laconic answer. I offered two hundred. It wouldn't do. The cunning Ranger saw that I was "bound" to have her, and stood up to his first asking. I raised my bid to two hundred and twenty-five.

"Won't take a picayune less nor two-fifty. She's a'mighty cheap at it.

She er the finest mar' in all Mexiko. That's sartin."

After a while, I saw that the man was inexorable; and, drawing out my purse, I counted down the required amount. A bill of sale, which was signed by the Ranger, and witnessed by his comrade, Bill, completed the "trade," and the mare was forthwith transferred to my quarters. Under the nimble brush and comb of my Mexican groom, Vicente, she soon became the most admired piece of horseflesh that made its appearance on the Pasao.

About ten days after, a party of us (we had nothing to do at the time) came to the resolve to visit Real del Monte, a rich silver-mine in the mountains that skirt the north-east of the valley. A division of our army was stationed there, and some of our old _comarados_ had sent us an "invite" to come up and explore the mines--adding that two or three very hospitable English _haciendados_ lived in that neighbourhood.

We could not resist, and consequently made ready to start. There were eight or ten of us in all, who had asked and obtained leave; and as we intended to include in our excursion the old town of Tezcoco and the pyramids of Teotihuacan--a guerilla neighbourhood--we borrowed a score of dragoons to escort us. I had resolved to try my new purchase upon the road on this occasion.

The morning of our departure arrived, and I was about to throw my leg over the saddle, when I was accosted by a small, spare man, with the salutation--

"_Buenas dias, capitan_!"

There was nothing in the words strange or unusual, nor, indeed, in the individual who p.r.o.nounced them; but there was something in the manner of this gentleman that told me at once he had some business with me.

"Well, senor," I asked, "what is it?"

The stranger hesitated for a moment, and then looking at the mare, replied, "La yegua, capitan."

"The mare--well, what of her?" I asked, with a beating heart.

"I regret to inform you, captain, that you have purchased a stolen horse;" and the little man bowed politely as he said it.

Had it been an order from the commander-in-chief, placing me under arrest, I should not have been so much vexed at it. I had grown so fond of this animal that I would cheerfully have paid down another two hundred and fifty rather than part with her, and this I saw plainly I would now have to do.

"Stolen!" I echoed involuntarily.

"Yes, captain, it is true."

"And from whom? From you, sir?"

"No, captain; from Don Miguel Castro."

"And you?"

"I am his agent--his _mayorazgo_--nothing more."

"Don Miguel Castro," thought I. "Yes--C for Castro--yes, all as he says, no doubt of it. I must give up the mare."

"Well, my dear sir," I asked, after a pause, "how am I to know that your statement is true?"

"Here, captain--here is the certificate of Senor Smeeth." Saying this, the little man handed me a folded doc.u.ment, on opening which I found it to be a bill of sale delivered by the celebrated Joe Smith, of Mexican horse-dealing notoriety, and describing the property to a hair.

"This seems quite correct," I observed, returning the bill; "but it will be necessary for you to prove this claim before the commander-in-chief; and when that is done I shall deliver you your mare. _Adios, caballero_!"

So saying, I rode off to overtake my companions, determined, since I must part with the animal, first to have one good ride out of her.

We spent about a week in the mountains, enjoying every amus.e.m.e.nt that our friends could provide for us. We found the English _haciendados_ worthy of their reputation. What a contrast between the cheer of their Saxon hospitality and the cold welcome of the selfish Iberian! But we approached the limits of our "leave," and must get back to duty and the city. After a parting and a promise to return, we leaped once more to the saddle, and headed our horses homeward.

It was our intention to have made the journey back in one day, but the stirrup-cup had delayed us at starting; and night--a very dark one at that season--overtook us as we crossed the isthmus between lakes Tezcoco and San Cristobal. The road was deep, miry, and bordered by bottomless zancas of mud and water. The little village of San Cristobal lay by the border of the lake, at some distance; and wheeling out of the road, we approached it, intending to remain there till morning. The _pueblito_ was reached at length, and with the alcalde's permission, our horses were picketed in the piazza, and ourselves put in possession of an empty _cuarto_, which, with several millions of fleas, was placed at our disposal. Money was offered freely, but no supper could be had; and when it was not to be procured for money, we had experience enough among these people to know that it was not to be had at all. A dish of _frijoles_ stewed in lard, a _tortilla_, and a bowl of sour _pulque_, were all that we could raise; and, after swallowing this, we lit our cigars, spread our blankets both over and under the fleas, and commenced arranging ourselves for the night.

It so happened that I could talk Spanish "like a book," and, furthermore, that I was the only one in our party who possessed this accomplishment. The alcalde, in consequence, directed all his conversation to me, and, being a sociable old fellow, he had become very fond of me. He had remained with us until a late hour, and during this time I had offered him a havanna, which he had accepted and smoked with much seeming enjoyment. As I was about seizing my blanket to make my "spread" along with the rest, old Jose Maria--for this was the alcalde's name--plucked me gently by the sleeve, and whispered in my ear that "_su casa_" was "_a mi disposition_" I was about to translate this hospitable proffer according to its usual French and Spanish signification, when it was repeated in a more pressing manner; and as I was not very difficult to coax away from the _cuarto_, I took Jose Maria at his word, and followed him across the piazza. On the other side was _su casa_. We entered it at once, and were welcomed by a felt, buxom-looking old lady, who proved to be Don Jose's left rib. Another lady made her appearance shortly after, who was neither so old, nor so fat, nor so buxom as the dona, but whose complexion was very dusky, with a dangerous black eye peeping from under a dark, crescent-shaped eyebrow. This, I was given to understand, was the only fruit of Don Jose's wedded life; and not bad-looking fruit either.

The ladies spent but little time in idle phrases of welcome. Jose snapped his fingers, and in a twinkling, a turkey hash with a large dish of _mole_, were smoking upon the table. There were other dishes, too-- pleasant little _entrees_, spiced and flavoured with all sorts of _chile_.

As I ate my supper with the alcalde and his compact little family, I could not help chuckling at the advantage I had gained over my supperless, and, no doubt, sleepless companions. Neither was my exultation diminished when, near the end of the repast, old Jose Maria stepped up to an alcove and drew out a quaint, queer old bottle, whose waxen seal conjured up exciting visions of the port of Funchal and the peak of Teneriffe.

I was fortunately enabled, through my cigar-case, to contribute to the evening's entertainment; and my host and I sat for an hour after the ladies had retired, discussing our wine and tobacco, and talking of the Texan Rangers, of which corps the worthy magistrate had rather a low opinion. It appeared that they had paid the neighbourhood a visit not long before, behaving upon the occasion in no very creditable manner.

It was late, or early if you will, when Jose inverted the bottle for the last time, and pressing my hand with a "_posa V. buena noche_!" the Mexican showed me to my chamber. Here I found one of the great and rare luxuries of this land--a couch with clean sheets; and in the "twinkling of a bedpost" I was between the latter, and forgetful of everything.

When I awoke in the morning, I found my comrades in the piazza, making ready to start. It was still only grey dawn, but as they were all sadly flea-bitten, and knew that nothing could be had to eat in San Cristobal, they had made up their minds to ride on, and breakfast at Guadalupe. I was preparing to accompany them, when Jose whispered in my ear that breakfast would be on the table in five minutes, and I must wait for it.

This was a tempting offer. My health was excellent, and half-a-dozen mouthfuls of the fresh morning air had given me a keen appet.i.te.

"If the breakfast," thought I, "bear any sort of proportion to last night's supper, it's worth waiting for; better than we are likely to get at Guadalupe; besides, 'a bird in the hand,'" etc. I could soon overtake my companions on my fine mare, which had by this time proved herself a first-cla.s.s roadster.

I placed my lips under the broad brim of Josh's, and repeated the words, "_Con gusto_."

"_Esta bueno_," replied Jose, slipping back into his house.

The next moment my companions had ridden off into the obscure twilight, and I was left alone in the village. None of my friends, I believe, had noticed that I stayed behind; and if they had, it would not have called forth a remark, as I was considered old enough to take care of myself.

My host proved as good as his word; for in five minutes, or less, the breakfast was steaming on the table; nor did it do any discredit to the supper. There were ham and eggs; a ham omelette; a chicken _fricase_; a dish of _chile rilleno_; another of _chile Colorado_; plenty of good claret, to wash down the peppers; and after that, a cup of the coffee which only Spaniards can make. Then there was a gla.s.s of good old Maraschino, and a cigar to "top off with," and as the morning was now tiptoe, I rose to take my leave. I shook hands with the senora, then with the senorita; and, amidst a shower of benedictions, I walked forth, followed by Jose Maria himself. My mare stood near the door, ready saddled. I threw the bridle over her neck, and was about to plant my foot in the stirrup, when my host touched me lightly on the left arm, and holding out a small slip of paper, with a sort of apologetic smile, uttered the words, "_Sa cuenta chiquita, capitan_." (The small bill, captain.)

"A bill!" I exclaimed, as soon as I had recovered from my astonishment.

"_Chiquit.i.ta_," (Very, very small) coolly responded Jose.

I took the "_cuenta chiquit.i.ta_" in my fingers, and opening it, read--"_Un peso por cena--un peso por cama--un peso por almuerzo--tres pesos por vino:--Suma seis pesos_." (Anglice: Slipper, one dollar--bed, one dollar--breakfast, one dollar--wine, three dollars. Total, six dollars.)

"It's a joke the old fellow's playing me," thought I.