“Oh, a little,” Walker admitted. “But I haven’t quite got the wanderlust as much as he has. He could go into raptures over anything that was far away from him. I’ve been thinking of him a lot today, riding over this estate. He spent some time down here in Mexico, and never grew tired of extolling the country. This was after my mother died.
“Though we are not entering the country at all that he was fondest of, I’ve been thinking of his descriptions of it, especially after seeing that pyramid in the distance.
“It was down in Oaxaca and was called, I believe, Tehuantepec. It took days to get there by horseback, according to his account, and the route was through tropical jungles more dense than any others in the world. You see my father never saw mediocre things,” he explained by the way.
“The City itself lay on a river by the same name in a gorgeous tropical setting surrounded by orchards and many gardens, all shaded by flowering trees and palms.
“The population was largely Indian, a tribe that had its own language and preserved its own traditions, but it seems that above all this particular tribe was known for its beautiful women, more independent, more lovely, and more beautifully dressed than any of the women in other tribes.
“He described them as being tall, well-built, and industrious. Their dresses consisted of long full skirts made of bright colors with a deep white flounce at the bottom, that swept the ground and covered their bare feet. The blouse was short and square-necked and for adornment they wore much jewelry, earrings and long heavy chains hung with ten and twenty American gold pieces.
“They had a graceful carriage, walking straight and firmly with an ease that only those women who have been trained to carry things on their head have. These people, he said, carry their flowers, fruit, and foods to the market in painted gourd bowls perched firmly on the crowns of their heads.
“Ah, yes, those people were perfect, more perfect my father said than any he had ever come across. But then, my father,” Walker admitted boyishly, “always did tell a grand tale.”
“So that’s why you became a newspaper man,” Nan concluded.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Walker admitted. “You know this taste for queer places and queer things is often bred right in your bones.”