“He doesn’t really abuse her, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t bodily ill-treat her. He pretends he is very fond of her, but she can’t stir out of his sight, or if he is not there Pike Smith is.”
“Did you see Pike Smith?”
“I should think I did. What’s this, Tina, about Sofia?”
“She’s gone. She went off this afternoon, was tired of it here, said it was too lonely for an old woman who had always lived near her own kin. I believe she has a sister somewhere and a lot of nieces and nephews.”
“Well, I am sure they are welcome to her,” returned Alison, beginning to lay the table for supper.
CHAPTER IX
WITH HANNAH MARIA
ABOUT this time the report of a civil revolution in Mexico was confirmed. Paredes, the erstwhile president, had been made prisoner and Gomez Farias declared president. The one-time favorite, Santa Anna, was recalled by his fickle people to be placed at the head of the army. On the 20th of September began the battle of Monterey, which lasted three days and resulted in victory to the Americans. In spite of this fact Ampudia still blustered and Santa Anna, still arrogant and confident, refused to consider overtures for peace. After the fall of Monterey an armistice of eight weeks was declared and for a time all was quiet. This war of invasion, so far from being looked upon as a disaster by the Mexican non-combatants, appears to have been regarded as bringing about rather a desirable condition of affairs. Good prices and “spot cash” obtained in the towns taken, the people were kindly treated, and prosperity seemed the order of the day wherever the Americans entered. No wonder they were welcomed and treated as friends, rather than foes, by a large portion of the inhabitants. To be sure the inflammatory bulletins issued by the Mexican generals served to rouse many to a pitch of animosity, and by a certain class the Americans were considered as “barbaric northern invaders.” So bitter, indeed were this latter class that even the women were ready to join in battle, and it is told that at Monterey a company of Lancers were led by a woman who swore she would never yield till the last Americano should be driven from the land.
All these pieces of news interested Christine and Alison greatly. For some time they had been established under the roof of Bud and Hannah Maria Haley, it being the universal opinion that two young girls ought not to remain in their house alone with no other protector than old Pedro, who, because of his being a Mexican, was not regarded in high esteem, and who, at his best, was not a vigorous fighter.
Accustomed to cleanliness and a well-ordered household, both Christine and Alison had long held out against the suggestion that they should go to the Haleys’, for a slip-shod, down-at-heel condition, such as often obtained in Texas, characterized the place which Bud called his. Two or three negroes served to perform all the labor Bud required. For about one month in the year he devoted himself to his stock, driving his cattle into the pen, marking the calves after they were roped in, and so on. But this performance was generally made the occasion of a frolic, the neighbors flocking to the different ranchos and assisting one another when spring brought around this duty. Bud raised a little corn, a little cotton, no more than it pleased him to look after, and enough hogs to supply the family with all the pork they wanted. The house required little attention from Hannah Maria, one negro woman doing the work in her own fashion. The daily fare of corn-bread, bacon and muddy coffee was supplemented infrequently by sweet potatoes, a little milk and poor butter, a bill of fare not requiring great skill in its preparation, and a very different sort of diet from that considered necessary by the Rosses. Alison especially rebelled against it, and declared to Christine that she would rather eat Lolita’s frijoles and tortillas.