TRAVELS IN MEXICO.
That precious sentence of Hispano-English was never finished, for she advanced at that, seized me about the waist, and said, in a decided sort of manner, "Vamonos!''—and I went.
Well, that young lady sailed all about me, like a swan. While I hopped up and down, stepped on her skirt, and trod on her toes, she remained as serene as a summer sky, pulled me this way and that, whirled me round and round till I was giddy, and ended by flinging me into a seat; while the whole audience, who had remained thunder-struck with awe and amazement at my war-dance, burst into loud cries of "Viva Americano!"
The girls sat ranged all along the wall, and waited till a caballero waltzed up to them and snatched one away. That was considered the proper thing to do,—when you saw a girl you wanted, to go up and lift her off her seat. Seeing that I was slow in coming forward, they reversed the order of things, and, before I was well aware, I was spinning away with another lady. One of the dances was the toro, or bull-dance; and another, the zopilote, or turkey-buzzard dance, in which a man and woman take the floor, each with a handkerchief, and go through a very extraordinary performance.
About midnight the Doctor looked in, on his way to visit a dying patient, and, wishing to see a new phase of native life, I went with him. Entering the thatched pole-hut of a poor Indian, we found ourselves in a dark room, feebly lighted by a small candle. It was a decided contrast to the bright ball-room, this gloomy and miserable hut, the abode of poverty and pain. In a hammock lay an Indian woman, the death-damp already gathering on her forehead, and a group of other women kneeling despairingly before a picture of the Virgin. Three hammocks hung from the smoke-blackened rafters, and these, with a few rude cooking utensils, were all the furniture of this cheerless abode.
The Doctor told them of her condition, and the information was communicated to the dying one, who changed neither position nor expression. Doubtless, she was glad to escape from a life that offered nothing but drudgery and toil; for these Indians have no fear of death, always welcoming
