In Indian Mexico | Page 6

a Syrian peddler. Three of these were travelling together; one of them spoke a little English, being proficient in profanity. He likes the United States, per se, and does not like Mexico; but he says the latter is the better for trade. "In the United States, you sell maybe fifteen, twenty-five, fifty cents a day; here ten, fifteen, twenty-five dollars." The trip lasted three hours and involved three changes of mules at stations, where we found all the excitement and bustle of a true railroad station.
The country was, at first, rolling, with a sparse growth of yuccas, many of which were exceptionally large and fine. On the hills were occasional haciendas. This broken district was succeeded by a genuine desert, covered with fine dust, which rose, as we rode, in suffocating clouds. Here the valley began to close in upon us and its slopes were sprinkled with great cushion cactuses in strange and grotesque forms. After this desert gorge, we came out into a more open and more fertile district extending to Tehuacan. Even this, however, was dry and sunburned.
Our party numbered four. We had written and telegraphed to the padre and expected that he, or Ernst, would meet us in Tehuacan. Neither was there. No one seemed to know just how far it was to Chila. Replies to our inquiries ranged from five to ten leagues.[B] Looking for some mode of conveyance, we refused a coach, offered at fifteen pesos, as the price seemed high. Hunting horses, we found four, which with a foot mozo to bring them back, would cost twenty pesos. Telling the owner that we were not buying horses, but merely renting, we returned to the proprietor of the coach and stated that we would take it, though his price was high, and that he should send it without delay to the railroad station, where our companions were waiting. Upon this the owner of the coach pretended that he had not understood that there were four of us (though we had plainly so informed him); his price was for two. If we were four, he must have forty pesos. A fair price here might be eight pesos for the coach, or four for horses. So we told the coach owner that we would walk to Chila, rather than submit to such extortion. This amused him greatly and he made some facetious observations, which determined me to actually perform the trip on foot. Returning to the railroad station, where two of the party were waiting, I announced my intention of walking to Chila; as the way was long and the sand heavy and the padre's silence and non-appearance boded no great hospitality in welcome, I directed the rest to remain comfortably at Tehuacan until my return on the next day. Herman, however, refused the proposition; my scheme was dangerous; for me to go alone, at night, over a strange road, to Chila was foolhardy; he should accompany me to protect me. Consenting that he should accompany, we began to seek a mozo, as guide to Chila. With difficulty, and some loss of time, one was found who would undertake the business for two pesos. In vain a Jew peddler standing by and the station agent remonstrated with the man; two pesos was a full week's wages; it was ridiculous to demand such a price for guiding two foot travellers to Chila. He admitted that two pesos might be a week's wages; but he did not have to go to Chila and if we wanted him to do so we must pay his price. We capitulated, the station agent loaned us a revolver, we left our friends behind us and started on our journey. It was now dark. In a mysterious voice, our guide said we must go first to his house; there he secured his serape and a heavy club. As we left his house he feared we must be hungry and indicated a bread-shop; we purchased and all three ate as we walked; a moment later he suggested that we would need cigarros of course, and a stock of these were added, at our expense. Then, at last, we came down to business.
[B] The Mexican league is 2.7 miles.
Plainly our guide did not enjoy his task. Shortly after we started, the moon rose and, from its shining full on the light sand, it was almost as bright as day. We were in single file, our guide, Herman, and I. At sight of every bush or indistinct object, our guide clutched his club and crossed himself, as he mumbled a prayer. When we met anyone, we kept strictly to our side of the road, they to theirs, and, in passing, barely exchanged a word of greeting. The timidity and terror of our guide increased as we advanced,