In the little settlement on the Rio Grande, situated at the terminus of the short line of railroad, the five encountered a Mexican, who, for a few coins, piloted them to a place along the river where the banks were so shelving that for a great part of the way horses could wade across.
At a lonely, deserted spot the Americans set foot in Mexico—that land of revolution and turmoil—a land that may truthfully boast of the most wonderful resources, yet within the confines of which can be found the greatest of poverty and misery.
After riding over a rough and rugged trail, nearly always in sight of a range of distant snow-clad mountains, the men and boys, hot, dusty and tired, reached the quaint little frontier town about four o’clock in the afternoon.
The action of the United States Government in sending war-ships to Vera Cruz and landing marines and soldiers at that port was of a too recent occurrence for the hot-headed Mexicans to have forgotten their anger and resentment. Therefore as the foam-flecked, steaming mustangs jogged slowly along the main street an occasional cry of “Gringo” generally uttered by some youthful voice rose above the sound of trampling hoofs.
Here and there picturesque little towers rose against the sky. Then the characteristic Mexican balconies, over the railings of which many a gaudily-colored rug was thrown; the pots of flowers in bloom; the semi-tropical vegetation and the traces, still to be seen on many sides, of the days when the Spaniards held control, all combined to form scenes full of interest and color.
Every one seemed to be moving about the sun-baked streets with an air of indolence. Men and youths were occasionally seen, sprawled out in the bluish shadows, some with high conical hats pulled well down over their eyes. The very atmosphere of the place suggested languor and inaction; yet those well informed knew that behind this air of tranquillity lay grave fears for the safety of the town. Encamped only twenty miles away, the Constitutionalists’ line of steel might at any moment advance and attack the Federal garrison.
As they rode slowly along Professor Kent spoke about these things to the boys, causing a sparkle to replace the fatigued look in Cranny Beaumont’s eye.
“Fellows, it’s just like living in a place near a sleepin’ volcano,” he exclaimed.
“I am thinking of something else,” said Dave. “I’ll take some chile con carne, frijoles, tortillas, and a whole lot of——”
“Have mercy,” pleaded George Parry, with a weary smile.