Part 19 (1/2)

Then I dismounted, and, with the careless air of a blameless, non-political person, strode into the s.p.a.cious kitchen, where an immense cauldron of fat was boiling over a big fire on the hearth; while beside it, ladle in hand, sat a perspiring, greasy-looking woman of about thirty. She was engaged in skimming the fat and throwing the sc.u.m on the fire, which made it blaze with a furious joy and loudly cry out in a crackling voice for more; and from head to feet she was literally bathed in grease--certainly the most greasy individual I had ever seen. It was not easy under the circ.u.mstances to tell the colour of her skin, but she had fine large Juno eyes, and her mouth was unmistakably good-humoured, as she smiled when returning my salutation. Her husband sat on the clay floor against the wall, his bare feet stretched straight out before him, while across his lap lay an immense surcingle, twenty inches broad at least, of a pure white, untanned hide; and on it he was laboriously working a design representing an ostrich hunt, with threads of black skin. He was a short, broad-shouldered man with reddish-grey hair, stiff, bristly whiskers and moustache of the same hue, sharp blue eyes, and a nose decidedly upturned.

He wore a red cotton handkerchief tied on his head, a blue check s.h.i.+rt, and a shawl wound round his body in place of the _chiripa_ usually worn by native peasants. He jerked out his _”Buen dia”_ to me in a short, quick, barking voice, and invited me to sit down.

”Cold water is bad for the const.i.tution at this hour,” he said. ”We will drink _mate.”_

There was such a rough, burr-like sound in his speech that I at once concluded he was a foreigner, or hailed from some Oriental district corresponding to our Durham or Northumberland.

”Thank you,” I said, ”a _mate_ is always welcome. I am an Oriental in that respect if in nothing else.” For I wished everyone I met to know that I was not a native.

”Right, my friend,” he exclaimed. _”Mate_ is the best thing in this country. As for the people, they are not worth cursing.”

”How can you say such a thing,” I returned. ”You are a foreigner, I suppose, but your wife is surely an Oriental.”

The Juno of the grease-pot smiled and threw a ladleful of tallow on the fire to make it roar; possibly this was meant for applause.

He waved his hand deprecatingly, the bradawl used for his work in it.

”True, friend, she is,” he replied. ”Women, like horned cattle, are much the same all the world over. They have their value wherever you find them--America, Europe, Asia. We know it. I spoke of men.”

”You scarcely do women justice--

_La mujer es un angel del cielo,”_

I returned, quoting the old Spanish song.

He barked out a short little laugh.

”That does very well to sing to a guitar,” he said.

”Talking of guitars,” spoke the woman, addressing me for the first time; ”while we are waiting for the _mate,_ perhaps you will sing us a ballad.

The guitar is lying just behind you.”

”Senora, I do not play on it,” I answered. ”An Englishman goes forth into the world without that desire, common to people of other nations, of making himself agreeable to those he may encounter on his way; this is why he does not learn to perform on musical instruments.”

The little man stared at me; then, deliberately disenc.u.mbering himself of surcingle, threads, and implements, he got up, advanced to me, and held out his hand.

His grave manner almost made me laugh. Taking his hand in mine, I said:

”What am I to do with this, my friend?”

”Shake it,” he replied. ”We are countrymen.”

We then shook hands very vigorously for some time in silence, while his wife looked on with a smile and stirred the fat.

”Woman,” he said, turning to her, ”leave your grease till tomorrow.

Breakfast must be thought of. Is there any mutton in the house?”

”Half a sheep--only,” she replied.

”That will do for one meal,” said he. ”Here, Teofilo, run and tell Anselmo to catch two pullets--fat ones, mind. To be plucked at once. You may look for half a dozen fresh eggs for your mother to put in the stew.

And, Felipe, go find Cosme and tell him to saddle the roan pony to go to the store at once. Now, wife, what is wanted--rice, sugar, vinegar, oil, raisins, pepper, saffron, salt, cloves, c.u.mmin seed, wine, brandy--”