Vagabond Life in Mexico

by Gabriel Ferry

"We have come thirty-two leagues since yesterday," said Cecilio, taking my bridle, with a sigh, "and if your lordship persist in continuing the pursuit, perhaps it will only be prudent and advisable if I return to Mexico to dissipate the uneasiness that will probably arise there on your account."

"The duty of a good servant is to accompany his master every where," was my reply; and, going up to the stable-boy, I began to put some questions to him regarding the travelers who had arrived before us. From him I learned that about forty travelers had stopped at the hacienda in the afternoon, and, for want of better information, I was obliged to content myself by a personal inspection of the stables. I ought to have gone there at first without making any inquiries; and, as there was still some daylight, I directed my steps to the courts. A great number of horses were munching their provender in their stalls, and, from the joyful eagerness with which they ate, I could see that they had come a long distance; but I could hardly contain myself for joy when I distinguished side by side, like two faithful companions, the iron-gray and the peach-blossom. This was but the beginning of success; for, to complete the discovery, I must examine nearly sixty travelers, for there was almost that number of horses in the stables. This, to speak the truth, was almost impracticable—dangerous, perhaps, in one respect, and ridiculous in another.

As I was going along the lobby which led to my room, where I intended to rest a short time previous to resuming the pursuit, a coach, drawn by eight mules, and escorted by three horsemen armed with muskets and sabres, came rattling into the court-yard. The arrival of a carriage at a Mexican inn is always an event of some importance; it bespeaks travelers of distinction, or, better still, the presence of females, whom, though they may not perhaps be young, the excitement of travel invests with a thousand illusory charms. While the three horsemen who formed the escort, and the two coachmen who conducted the team, were wrangling with the huesped, the court all the time filled with strange figures, one of the horsemen alighted and advanced respectfully to open the carriage door. A man of a certain age descended first, a younger person followed, and, before any one had time to offer her their hand, a young lady hurried out after them. She wore a costume adopted by several rich rancheras when traveling, an attire which suits equally well the carriage or the side-saddle. She carried in her hand a hat with a broad brim; and her manga, richly ornamented with silk velvet and gold lace, could not hide entirely her fine flexible figure, and bare, sunburned arms. Her uncovered head left exposed her beautiful black hair; and her eyes, as black, and not less brilliant, gazed around in the free bold style peculiar to Mexican women. She seemed evidently seeking for some one in the group that surrounded her; but when she saw the unknown faces which greeted her, she veiled them modestly under her eyelids.

Night came on, and the young lady had retired to one of the chambers of the hacienda when another traveler entered the court-yard. The new-comer was a young man, evidently about five or six-and-twenty, tall and well made. Though poorly clad, his dress was unstudiously elegant, and a fine black mustache heightened the dignity of his appearance. The predominant expression of his countenance was at once haughty and sad, but his face was remarkable at times for a singularly winning sweetness. A little mandolin hung round his neck, and at the pommel of his saddle dangled an old rusty rapier. The lean and somewhat scraggy horse he rode was followed by another ready saddled and bridled. I could not help feeling a touch of pity for this poor young man with the melancholy face. The famine-stricken appearance of both horses and master, showed but too well the hardships which they had endured in common—long journeys executed upon little or no food, and entire days passed probably without sustenance of any kind. Like the other travelers, the cavalier called the huesped; but, instead of addressing him in a loud voice, he stooped from his saddle and whispered in his ear. The huesped, in reply, shook his head; a cloud passed over the face of the unknown, he colored slightly, looked sorrowfully at the unharnessed carriage, twitched his bridle, and left the hacienda.

It was now time for me, however, to look after my own business. The joy of Cecilio, when he found that the two horses of our travelers were in the stables of the inn, was changed into despair when I communicated to him my orders. As I could not interrogate sixty travelers, I ordered him to saddle our horses at midnight, and station himself along with me in the court-yard near the gate. In this way not a single traveler could leave the place at any hour of the night without my knowledge. This point arranged, I left Cecilio plunged in melancholy reflection at the prospect of a night to be passed in the open air, and hastened to the kitchen, which, according to the custom of the country, served also for a dining-room.

In this vast hall, travelers of every kind—traders, military men, arrieros, and servants, were seated round a number of tables placed near the fire. I sat down like the rest, and, during the whole time of my meal, kept my ears open to catch the conversation that was going on. I did not, however, pay much attention to it, as it consisted only of stories of robbers, storms, impassable torrents—favorite topics of conversation with all travelers. Weary at last of listening to a series of questions and answers in which there was nothing interesting, I asked the landlady, in a loud voice, about the two horses, the colors of which I mentioned, that were then in the stable. I was more fortunate at first than I hoped. I learned that one of the individuals was the Señor Don Tomas Verdugo, who had arrived about an hour before me; but, being pressed for time, he only waited till he got a relay of horses, and then departed, leaving at the hacienda the two horses he had brought with him till his next arrival.

"Although it seems strange that you can have any business with him," added the landlady, "I know that he will stay two days at Celayo, and you will find him at the Meson de Guadalupe, where he is accustomed to put up."

I was very anxious to elicit some more information, but the wary hostess kept herself very reserved, and I quitted the kitchen very much disappointed to learn that I had still a forty leagues' ride before meeting my mysterious visitor, but delighted to find that I knew his name, and had a certain aim to pursue. After countermanding my order to Cecilio, as it was not late—and sleep is a long time in visiting a stony couch, especially when one is very much fatigued—I went and sat down at the outer gate of the hacienda, a few paces from the high road.

The country round lay as still and silent as if it had been midnight, and the moon shone brightly overhead. In the horizon the hills began to put on their nocturnal russet. Upon the whitened plain, the moisture from the earth, condensed by the coldness of the night, looked in the distance like a tranquil lake, and from among the vapor towered aloft some aloes which grow upon this rocky soil. In this mournful solitude, in an inhospitable country, where a thousand dangers surround the traveler, especially when he is a foreigner, my present enterprise appeared for the first time in its true light—a perilous folly. For the first time, also, since my departure from Mexico, my heart failed me, and I was almost on the point of retracing my steps, when, as I was taking, as I fancied, a last look at the scene, I thought I heard, amid the stillness of the night, the distant sounds of a guitar. This came, probably, from a party of muleteers who had bivouacked at some distance, or some groom who was playing to his fellows in one of the inn stables. Without stirring, I listened to the strains broken by the distance, when gradually, out of the stillness, a vocal accompaniment stole along on the night air. Owing to the profound silence that prevailed, I easily made out the words of the song; it was a Spanish Romancero; but the musician, through some odd fancy, had accompanied it with a refrain, consisting of some by-words very much in use among the Mexican people. This singularity raised in me a desire to see the player. At a short distance from the hacienda, and at the foot of a low hill which overtopped it, I observed the flickering light of a fire. One side of the singer's face was brightly illuminated by the blaze, and near him, two horses, tied together by a long cord, were cropping the scanty grass which grew on that stony soil. I advanced quietly, so as not to interrupt the unknown; but the noise of my footsteps betrayed me, and the music stopped all at once. The stranger rose hurriedly; the graze of a sword which he was unsheathing struck my ear. The adventure was becoming less pleasant than I had anticipated. I stopped, then advanced again; and, by the light of the fire, I distinguished the young man whom I had seen in the court-yard of the inn, but whom I little expected to find again so near me.

"Who goes there?" he exclaimed in Spanish, and in a pure Castilian accent.