"It was in the estio,"[11] resumed the Indian, "that Jago returned to his father's house, where a great entertainment was given to him. Don Esau was away at the hunting-grounds, while Don Jago was feasting on the best of tortillas and the finest Tacotitlan pulque, better no Count could have."
At the mention of the pulque, there was a strong sensation amongst the listeners.
"Don Esau came home hungry from the chase, and found his brother with a dish of frijolos before him, the best that ever were grown upon the Chinampas of the Chalco.[12] Now, what think you the traitor Jago did?"
"Io sé! Io sé! We know!" cried several Indians eagerly.
"The señores," said the old man gravely, "will hear that Ixtla speaks no lies. Jago drew back his dish of frijolos, as if from a dog; and when Don Esau begged for a mouthful, he promised him the whole dish if he would give up his birthright; but if he would not do so, then Jago swore that not a single frijolo should pass Don Esau's lips."
"And Don Esau?" cried the Léperos.
"What would my brothers have done had they been thirsty and a-hungered, and had seen before them the skin of pulque, and the dish of tortillas and frijolos?"
This argumentum ad hominem elicited sundry greedy looks from the surrounding crowd; and cries of "Ah, tortillas! ah, pulque!" burst from the craving lips of the Léperos.
"In short," continued the old Indian, "Don Esau gave what his hunger forced him to give, and Don Jago gave in return the dish of frijolos and a fine large skin full of Tacotitlan pulque."
"Maldito gavacho!" growled the Léperos, who, in spite of their longings, could not help finding the exchange an unfair one.