294 



The Atiuricau Amrler. 



mingled with the sound of ripples or 

 splash of jiimping fish. The wind 

 rustling among the palms gave the 

 sound of falling water. The hooting, 

 squeaking and quacking of the birds in 

 the distant bayou made a background 

 of sound for the nearer murmurs to 

 contrast with. The distant lighthouse 

 on the beach, like a star just rising, 

 threw its tinny rays above the glare of 

 the city, constantly growing brighter 

 and more defined as we approached. 



The train stopped on a little island ; 

 on one side the city, separated from us 

 by a branch of the Tamesi, and on the 

 other the placid Panuco, where great 

 ocean steamers ride at anchor. Our 

 tired travelers from the car platform 

 glanced at the city in front, perched on 

 a low cliff, whose thousand lights 

 sparkled and danced on the water at 

 its foot. Then a look at the river 

 behind, where the dark mass of 

 anchored ships cast a darker shade on 

 the phosphorescent waves. And then, 

 to bed. 



Early morning in the tropics, when 

 the sun comes crawling up behind a 

 bank of crimson clouds out of a skim- 

 mering sea; it is a sin to waste it 

 sleeping. "Get up, Judge; get up. 

 Kid. Even the ladies are stirring. 

 The coffee will be ready in a minute. 

 The fish are jumping in the river, and 

 I am dancing with impatience to be 

 after them." 



The market is at the river bank, 

 so the canoes can unload their car- 

 goes directly at the stalls. And 

 what a strange gathering of mer- 

 chants and merchandise: fishes and 

 fruit, flowers and game, birds from the 

 mountain and birds from the marsh, 

 the Faisan Real (Royal Pheasant) and 

 the brown plover hanging side by side, 

 while turtles on their backs and fishes 



on their bellies strew the walk and fill 

 the tables. 



Here we'll hire a canoe. The choco- 

 late-colored boatmen with shining 

 teeth and loud voices crowd around us. 

 ' ' How much for the thirty-foot dugout 

 with two paddles, till noon? " " Three 

 dollars, seiior. " "You don't under- 

 stand me, you coflfee-colored scion of a 

 hundred kings. I don't ask you how 

 much you'll sell your ship for, I only 

 want to rent it. I'll give you six bits." 

 " No, seiior, I'm a poor man and have 

 a family to support. Your honor 

 doesn't look like a man that would 

 grind the faces of the poor." In view 

 of this complaint, we compromised on 

 a dollar and a half, with two bits for 

 bait, and at once embarked— the Judge, 

 the railroad man, the Kid and myself. 

 We took the inside passage between 

 the island and the town to enter the 

 main river in front of the astillero, 

 where we would anchor and catch the 

 smaller fish. Just below the shipyard, 

 out from that rocky point, the river 

 bends around. Our Indian says it is 

 the best fishing ground. A fresh 

 shrimp is good bait. We'll begin with 

 them. 



The Judge and the Kid took hand 

 lines and the rest of us poles. The 

 water was about fifteen feet deep and 

 ran about three miles an hour. We 

 used a half-ovmce sinker and three 

 hooks, letting the lines drag behind. 

 We anchored a short distance astern of 

 a small river steamer that was slowly 

 rotting in the river. For the first ten 

 or fifteen minutes we did not have, a 

 bite, and then, suddenly the Kid 

 jumped up and began pulling in his 

 line hand over hand until he trium- 

 phantly threw into the boat two par- 

 gitos of about a pound and a half each. 

 For the next quarter of an hour we 



