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Pete blinked and hesitated. "Of my folks back there," he said. Boca darted from him as her mother called her to help set the table. Pete's lips were drawn in a queer line. He had no folks "back there" or anywhere. "It was her eyes made me feel that way," he thought. And, "Doggone it I'm livin' anyhow."
The girl was taller and more slender than Boca yet in the close-up which followed, while her lover told her of the tribulations he had recently experienced, the girl's face was the face of Boca the same sweetly curved and smiling mouth, the large dark eyes, even the manner in which her hair was arranged . . . Pete nudged Brevoort. "I reckon we better drift," he whispered. "How's that, Pete?"
Dewey entered by the Boca Chica, and we were in Boca Grande. By and by a cluster of roofs, church towers, docks, and arsenals took form against the sea. A little later we could discern the hulks of the Spanish fleet scattered in the water, and several of our own fighting craft at anchor. This was Cavite.
In September of the following year there were landings of Englishmen near Loiza and in the neighborhood of San German, of which we know only that they were stoutly opposed; and we learn from an official document that there was another landing at Boca Chica on the south coast in 1743, when the English were once more obliged to reembark with the loss of a pilot-boat.
He had been a fool to ride from comparative safety into this blind furnace of burning wind. Why had he done so? And again and again he asked himself this question, wondering if he were going mad. It had been years and years since he had left the Flores rancho. There was a girl there Boca Dulzura or had he dreamed of such a girl? Pete felt the back of his head.
There are found the three famous fisheries; those of Encaramada, or Boca del Cabullare; of Cucuruparu, or Boca de la Tortuga; and of Pararuma, a little below Carichana. The arrau, called by the Spaniards of the Missions simply tortuga, is an animal whose existence is of great importance to the nations on the Lower Orinoco.
"I believe I am drunk, Boca Chica," he solemnly confessed, "drunk as a lord!" Then he took both my hands in his. "D'you know what's going to happen?" he demanded. And of course I didn't. Then he hurled it point-blank at me. "The railway's going to come!" "Come where?" I gasped. "Come here, right across our land! It's settled. And there's no mistake about it this time.
The company then rowed away for Cartagena, eating their "mellions and winter cherries" with a good appetite. They rowed through the Boca Chica, or Little Mouth, into the splendid harbour, where they set sail, "having the wind large," towards the inner haven and the city.
"Well, we can't go any slower 'less we git off and set down," Pete remarked. "Blue Smoke here is fightin' the bit. He ain't no graveyard hoss." "I notice he's been actin' nervous and only jest recent." "He always runs his fool head off if I let him," asserted Pete. And he fell silent, thinking of Boca and the strange tricks that Fate plays on the righteous and wicked alike.
Kind of second-sight, I reckon. Wonder why she didn't put me wise to Malvey when I lit in here with him? It would 'a' saved a heap of trouble." "It is the dream," said Boca. "These things she has seen in a dream." "I ain't got nothin' against your ole your mother, Boca, but by the way I'm feelin', she's sure due to have a bad one, right soon." "You do not believe?" queried Boca quite seriously.
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