MESSING AROUND IN MEXICO 



the yacht veering drunkenly about at her 

 anchorage as the gale boiled over the moun- 

 tains and blew her this way and that. Car- 

 rots put off in the skiff to pick us up, but a 

 gust caught him and spun him out into the 

 gloom. We rid our mouths of burro hair and 

 dust, and answered his mournful cries for 

 help. It did not seem right, after all we had 

 endured, that we should be deprived of Car- 

 rots and denied our vengeance for those cans 

 of briny fish. When the wind shifted and 

 whirled him into sight, we waded out to meet 

 him, but before we could entwine our hungry 

 fingers in his vermilion beard another squall 

 bore him gyrating out into the bay. This 

 time he broke an oar. It was too dark to 

 see to shoot him, so we sat down and wept. 

 We were strong men, but thought of this 

 meeting had been like wine to us; we had 

 reached the breaking point. 



When he finally managed to scull in to the 

 beach his arms were paralyzed ; he could not 

 even, raise his hands in supplication, and well, 

 we lacked the heart to do away with him. 



If in my story I appear to digress at times, 

 if I deal idly in passing with things Mexican 

 from big game to botany, from politics to 



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