After supper I led ’Pache down to drink. He would have died of thirst before he would have left off stealing corn. It was a matter of principle with him!
It was a beautiful place, this wild little mountain spot, and the big clumsy carro and the broad-horned oxen hardly detracted from the picturesque, neither did the half-wild teamsters who lay stretched out on the ground. The stream, troutful and delicious, poured melodiously by, just big enough to hold one-pounders. The cañon walls swept widely out into a perfect amphitheatre, back of which rose the solemn Capitans, now of a wondrous, mournful purple in the dying sunlight. The evening chill was coming on. The big stars were showing. The rio babbled vaguely, whispering of cold, black mountain depths beyond; grieving, maybe, that no man had ever been found good enough to attain the Holy Grail.
Alone, ’Pache and I would not have been lonesome. We would have lain down there with our one blanket and slept the sleep of the ingenuously wicked, as calmly as two babes. But now the two-legged gregariousness came out. The Greasers were yoking up their cattle. They were going to pull out. It would be lonesome. We would go too.
No, it didn’t matter where. The trip to the Fort might wait. Mañana. Poco tiempo. After a while. What was the difference?
I approached the elder Greaser, as with much liquid, beautiful Southern profanity he labored with his lead yoke. I did not offer him money in return for his supper, for I knew he would not take it under the circumstances. There are a few gentlemen in the mountains, though they are mostly getting killed off.
“Yo vamos,” said my Mexican, smiling and showing a good set of teeth.
“Quantos milas a placita?” (How many miles to the village?) I asked, boldly, guessing that he couldn’t be far from home, since he was starting out with a full team at that time of day.
“Sies,” said he, soberly and politely, as one who says, “Good-evening.” Indeed, he soon added, “Adios!”
But I made mille gracias for my supper, and begged a thousand pardons, too. And could I not accompany him to the placita? Consider, it was late, it was far to the Fort; I had no serape. Moreover, I was most anxious to learn of one Señor José Trujillo, who had found a stone.