MESSING AROUND IN MEXICO 



The gulf, at this point, is narrow and has 

 been left in a wretched state of disrepair. It 

 is all cluttered up with reefs and islets; vast 

 piles of loose building material lie around, half 

 or wholly submerged, and affording a menace 

 to traffic. Worst of all, there is not even a red 

 lantern out at night to warn a yacht of some 

 detour. 



We did not tell our pilot whither we were 

 bound, else he would have gone to board with 

 Maddone, for Tiburon is not a popular point 

 of call, and local boatmen avoid it like the 

 "flu." 



When he finally discovered that we were 

 headed for the stamping grounds of the no- 

 torious Seris, he surrendered the wheel and 

 disclaimed further responsibility for anything 

 except his own safety. That he proposed to 

 safeguard. He complained that Tiburon was 

 his idea of no place to be after dark, and as- 

 sured us that even the rent collector passed 

 it up and the cops ignored it. In comparison 

 with its inhabitants, the Yaquis were lovable, 

 orderly people, and the electric chair was too 

 good for any Seri. If we chose to go ashore 

 there, we would part as friends, and there 

 would be no hard feelings, but he would appre- 



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