“Perhaps,” said the captain, “but it will be only a short war, and at the end of it the United States will have stolen Texas.”
“No, señor,” said Zuroaga, with a fierce flash in his eyes. “All educated Mexicans believe that Texas or any other of the old Spanish provinces has a right to set up for itself. Almost every State has actually tried it. We have had revolution after revolution.”
“Anarchy after anarchy!” growled the captain. “Such a nation as that needs a king of some kind, or else the strong hand of either England or France or the United States.”
“Mexico! A nation!” exclaimed Señor Zuroaga, after a moment of silence. “We are not a nation yet. Within our boundaries there are several millions of ignorant Indians, peons, rancheros and the like, that are owned rather than ruled by a few scores of rich landholders who represent the old Spanish military grants. Just now President Paredes is able to overawe as many of these chiefs as he and others have not murdered. So he is President, or whatever else he may choose to call himself. The mere title is nothing, for the people do not know the difference between one and another. Now, Captain Kemp, one sure thing is that the Yankees have taken Texas and mean to keep it. They will fight for it. One other sure thing is that General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna will come back if he can, to carry on that war and supersede Paredes. If he does so, there is danger ahead for some men. He will settle with all his old enemies, and he loves bloodshed for its own sake. When he cannot be killing men, he will sit in a cockpit all day, just for the pleasure of seeing the birds slaughtering one another. I believe he had my own father shot quite as much for love of murder as for the opportunity it gave him for confiscating our family estates in Oaxaca.”
“You seem to have enough to hate him for, anyhow, and I don’t blame you,” replied the captain, as he turned away to give some orders to the sailors, and all the while the boy who stood near them had been listening.
“Well, Ned Crawford,” he muttered to himself, “that’s it, is it? Father didn’t seem to believe there would be any war. He said there would be plenty of time, anyhow, for this old Goshawk bark to make the round trip to New York by way of Vera Cruz.”
A great lurch of the ship nearly swung him off his feet just then, and he was holding on very firmly to his rope when he added:
“He said I’d learn a great deal all the way, and I shouldn’t wonder if I’m learning something new just now. What do they mean by that dangerous cargo in the hold, and our being captured by American ships of war? That’s a thing father didn’t know anything about. I guess I can see how it is, though. Captain Kemp isn’t an American, and he’d do almost anything to make money. Anything honest, I mean. How it does blow! Well, let her blow! Father said he was putting me into a first-rate commercial school, and here I am right in the middle of it.”
Ned was indeed at school, and he seemed likely to have unexpected teachers, but so is every other wide-awake young fellow, just like Ulysses Grant and his crowd of young associates in their hot weather war school over there on the Texas border.
Señor Zuroaga also had now walked away, and Ned was left to hold by his rope, looking out upon the tossing sea and wondering more and more what sort of adventures he and the Goshawk might be so swiftly racing on into.