The Jarocho bowed in token of assent, and then began to give me an account of the numerous pleasures that awaited me on the morrow. Conversing thus, we reached Manantial. Night had come. A few scattered lights gleaming from among the green foliage announced our approach to the village. We soon reached a little clearing in the wood, dotted with cabins formed of wattled bamboo. This was Manantial. Some men and women, clad in the national costume, were dancing to the monotonous sound of a mandolin, while the mothers were rocking their infants to sleep in hammocks formed of strips of aloe bark. I soon learned the name of my new host.
"Ah! it's Calros,"[56] cried they, in a tone as if his arrival had long been looked for. He paid no attention to the greeting of his friends, who advanced to welcome him, but his eye roved about till it rested on the slender and graceful form of a young girl, whose pretty little feet were twinkling merrily in the dance. Her hair, black as ebony, was ornamented with a wreath[57] of suchil flowers, interspersed with fire-flies, whose pale bluish light encircled her forehead with a mysterious and fantastic halo. Draped in a white robe, whose waving folds were every moment blanched by the pale rays of the moon, Sacramenta, with her bare shoulders and variegated hair, looked like a fairy dancing by night in a glade of the forest, when all around is at rest.
The almost disdainful glance which she threw at him showed me at once the true state of affairs. The Jarocho waited till the dance was finished, and then advanced toward the girl. By the entreating tone of his voice, it was clear that he was excusing himself about the red ribbons he had promised her. I was too far off to hear his words, but the light which streamed from a neighboring cottage showed me the full expression of her features. It was evident that all Calros's rhetoric had been useless, and he remounted, but with a saddened, irritated air. Sacramenta, in shaking her head to a remark of his, allowed one of the suchil flowers to fall from her chaplet. The Jarocho regarded it for some time with an undecided air; and she, marking his hesitation, and while pressing the wreath on her forehead, in a fit of coquetry, raised the flower on the tip of her tiny foot, and presented it to him. The cloudy countenance of the Jarocho was now lit up with joy; he seized the flower eagerly, spurred his horse, and was soon lost in the darkness.
It was quite clear that he had completely forgotten me, but it was as clear that I had no intention of taking up my quarters for the night in the forest.
"Halloo! Señor Don Calros," I shouted after him, "you have left me behind."
"Pardon me, Señor Cavalier," cried he, pulling up; "but there are times when I am hardly master of myself."
"I am convinced of that," I said; "and it is certainly no indiscretion in you to forget a stranger whom you met by the merest chance."
"In my country the stranger is at home every where; but you shall not have my hospitality for nothing, for you must pay me either by doing me a particular piece of service, or assisting me with your advice."
"With pleasure," I answered, "if it is in my power."