Thus Insulted, The Digger Ran Into The
Hut (As I Could See) To Get His Rifle.
I snatched up my own,
which I had been using every day to practise at the large
iguanas and macaws, and, well protected by my horse, called
out as I covered him, 'This is a double-barrelled rifle.
If
you raise yours I'll drop you where you stand.' He was
forestalled and taken aback. Probably he meant nothing but
bravado. Still, the situation was a critical one. Obviously
I could not wait till he had shot my friend. But had it come
to shooting there would have been three left, unless my
second barrel had disposed of another. Fortunately the
'boss' of the digging party gauged the gravity of the crisis
at a glance; and instead of backing him up as expected, swore
at him for a 'derned fool,' and ordered him to have no more
to do with us.
After that, as we drew near to the city, the country being
more thickly populated, we no longer clashed.
This is not a guide-book, and I have nothing to tell of that
readers would not find better described in their 'Murray.'
We put up in an excellent hotel kept by M. Arago, the brother
of the great French astronomer. The only other travellers in
it besides ourselves were the famous dancer Cerito, and her
husband the violin virtuoso, St. Leon. Luckily for me our
English Minister was Mr. Percy Doyle, whom I had known as
ATTACHE at Paris when I was at Larue, and who was a great
friend of the De Cubriers. We were thus provided with many
advantages for 'sight-seeing' in and about the city, and also
for more distant excursions through credentials from the
Mexican authorities. Under these auspices we visited the
silver mines at Guadalajara, Potosi, and Guanajuata.
The life in Mexico city was delightful, after a year's tramp.
The hotel, as I have said, was to us luxurious. My room
under the verandah opened on to a large and beautiful garden
partially enclosed on two sides. As I lay in bed of a
morning reading Prescott's 'History of Mexico,' or watching
the brilliant humming birds as they darted from flower to
flower, and listened to the gentle plash of the fountain, my
cup of enjoyment and romance was brimming over.
Just before I left, an old friend of mine arrived from
England. This was Mr. Joseph Clissold. He was a
schoolfellow of mine at Sheen. He had pulled in the
Cambridge boat, and played in the Cambridge eleven. He
afterwards became a magistrate either in Australia or New
Zealand. He was the best type of the good-natured, level-
headed, hard-hitting Englishman. Curiously enough, as it
turned out, the greater part of the only conversation we had
(I was leaving the day after he came) was about the
brigandage on the road between Mexico and Vera Cruz. He told
me the passengers in the diligence which had brought him up
had been warned at Jalapa that the road was infested by
robbers; and should the coach be stopped they were on no
account to offer resistance, for the robbers would certainly
shoot them if they did.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 137 of 208
Words from 69568 to 70111
of 106633
