IN THE OLD WEST 291 



half-way between the knee and ankle, displays 

 their well-turned limbs, destitute of stockings, and 

 their tiny feet, thrust into quaint little shoes 

 (zapatitos) of Cinderellan dimensions. Thus 

 equipped, with the reboso drawn over their heads 

 and faces, out of the folds of which their brilliant 

 eyes flash like lightning, and each pretty mouth 

 armed with its cigarito, they coquettishly enter the 

 fandango.* Here, at one end of a long room, are 

 seated the musicians, their instruments being gen- 

 erally a species of guitar called heaca, a handolin, 

 and an Indian drum called tombe — one of each. 

 Round the room groups of New Mexicans lounge, 

 wrapped in the eternal sarape, and smoking of 

 course, scowling with jealous eyes at the more fa- 

 vored mountaineers. These, divested of their 

 hunting-coats of buckskins, appear in their bran- 

 new shirts of gaudy calico, and close-fitting buck- 

 skin pantaloons, with long fringes down the out- 

 side seam from the hip to the ankle; with mocca- 

 sins, ornamented with bright beads and porcupine- 

 quills. Each, round his waist, wears his mountain- 

 belt and scalp-knife, ominous of the company he is 

 in, and some have pistols sticking in their belts. 



The dances — save the mark ! — are without 

 form or figure, at least those in which the white 

 hunters sport the fantastic toe. Seizing his part- 



* The word fandango, in New Mexico, is not applied to 

 the peculiar dance known in Spain by that name, but desig- 

 nates a ball or dancing meeting. 



