“Don’t they wear trousers in this country?” he whispered to Tom.
“They all have trousers on—white linen ones,” Tom answered; “but they roll them clear up so they won’t get wet in the boat. And it’s the fashion in Yucatan to wear the end of the shirt outside instead of inside the trousers. It wouldn’t be so bad in this hot climate, with their bare feet and legs, if they didn’t wear the high black hats to look stylish.”
The Captain took his visitors down into the cabin; and next minute his bell rang, and Kit had to run.
CHAPTER III.
A NORTHER ON THE GULF.
WHEN the port officers returned to shore they left behind four of the custom-house men, who were to stay on board the North Cape as long as she lay there; and these men deposited their high hats in the cabin and put on dark blue caps that they carried in their pockets, rolled down their trousers, and thus, though still in their bare feet, transformed themselves into respectable-looking citizens.
Kit heard the order given from the bridge, “Lower away the captain’s gig!” and in a few minutes Captain Griffith followed the officers ashore to arrange for lighters to land his cargo. He returned in time for supper, bringing along a package of letters that had been handed him at the custom-house—some for himself, and some for members of the crew.
“I think I have something here for you, Christopher,” he said as he passed through the cabin, where Kit was setting the table. “Yes,” he went on, pausing under the lamp to look over the letters, “‘Mr. Christopher Silburn, S. S. North Cape, Sisal, Yucatan.’ There’s news from home for you. The mail steamer left three days behind us, but she has beaten us down and gone on to Vera Cruz; so you will have a chance to answer your letter when she comes back, in about a week.”
“Thank you, sir,” Kit answered, as the Captain handed him a letter addressed in his mother’s familiar handwriting. He was delighted to hear from home, but still the letter frightened him a little, for he had not expected to hear while he was away, and his first thought was that there must be something the matter. He hastily cut the envelope open and read far enough to see that no one was sick, then put the letter in his pocket till his work was done. It was not till the supper dishes were washed and put away that he had any leisure, and then he sat down under the cabin lamp and read it. The main letter was from his mother, and there was a shorter one from Genevieve.
My dear Boy [his mother wrote]: Though I have no news to tell you, I want to send you a few lines by the first mail steamer, for I don’t want you to feel that you are entirely cut off from home and family. No matter how far away you are, you know we are always thinking about you.
And I don’t want to tire you with a lot of advice, but I do hope, my dear boy, that you will take care of yourself in every way. It may be selfish in me to say so, but I want you to remember that you have not only yourself, but your mother and sister too, to think about and work for. You are all we have. I am sure you will do your best wherever you are, but I want you to take great care of your health. That is an unhealthy country you are in, and you must not expose yourself to the hot sun. I will try to have some new shirts ready for you when you get back to New York; and I think you had better buy a few handkerchiefs, for you have not enough. And don’t forget the little book I gave you, Kit.
Your Loving Mother.