CHAPTER III 



WALKS IN THE CACTUS COUNTRY 



lARLY on New Year's Day we were awak- 

 ened by the song- of birds — not the morn- 

 mo- carols o£ those we were so easier to see 

 and hear, bnt an ahnost continuous series 

 of clarion tones from hundreds of roosters. Far and 

 near they flapped and crowed and crowed again, and 

 our j^atio rang with the sound. Before the last few 

 lingering crows died away, dozens of church bells 

 began to toll, some sonorous and slow and others with 

 frantic clangs. Succeeding these, more or less expert 

 buglers chimed in, scores from the various barracks 

 blowing loudly if not well. Apparently the reveille 

 was the object of most of their efforts, certain individ- 

 uals sounding taps, which made up in vigour of blast 

 what was lacking in appropriateness. 



Our Guadalajara home was well on the outskirts of 

 the city, in easy walking distance of the transvla, 

 which, behind three galloping mules, shrieked along 

 the uneven rails and afforded rapid transit to tlie^:»/flz«. 

 Several minutes' walk in the opposite direction, and 

 the narrow street frayed out into a few straggling, 

 thatched huts, beyond which stretched the level sun- 



«4 37 #» 



