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Gigantic cactuses surround the town, and cocoa palms rise to great heights within it. It is customary for travelers to emphasize the slowness of the Mexicans. Either we have been exceptionally fortunate, or the reputation is largely undeserved. We have been rarely delayed by sluggish action. Here, however, we found a jefe who would surely satisfy the most complaining.
The jefe ordered that he should be thrown into jail, which order was promptly obeyed, but all to no purpose. Our subject said we might whip him, fine him, keep him in jail, or kill him, but he would not have his bust made. Hours passed, and neither remonstrance nor threats on the part of the jefe or ourselves were of the least avail.
He was much pleased at the information given him concerning the corporal and thanked the boys in the name of Gen. Carranza for their good offices. He furthermore detached an escort of a dozen men to see that they reached Moreno in safety and commended them to the care of the jefe politico, with the verbal instruction that the boys be allowed to proceed on their way to Vera Cruz at their will.
We told them that we would wait no longer in a town where our animals could only starve; that they must forward our boxes, plaster and busts promptly to Tehuantepec; that we should hold them responsible for loss or delay, and that all should be delivered at the office of the jefe.
Leaving with him the letters from the archbishop and the jefe, I returned to my work, leaving word that the horses would have to stay where they were, as there was no other suitable place for their keeping. After a hard day's work, the night started very cold, and we hurried to bed early. All were sleeping, but myself, when a rap came at the door.
The ragged fellows were called up one by one and ordered to strip of blouses, shirts, and trousers, and even huarachas, their flat leather sandals, the jefe examining carefully even the seams of their garments. Indeed, he even searched the hairs of their bodies for filings of "high-grade."
According to the manager, I had chosen well the time of my coming, for there was "something doing." We strolled about town until he had picked up the jefe politico, a handsome Mexican, built as massive as an Aztec stone idol, under a veritable haystack of hat, who ostensibly at least was a sworn friend of the mining company.
Finding this condition, the jefe reasoned with them, and warned them that they must come to some conclusion, after which he left them to themselves again. At first they would not speak, but finally held a conversation, and came to an understanding; the old man was then called in and made to talk the matter over with the two, who had already been in conference.
It is a common thing for prisoners, passing along the Cordillera, to be shot "while attempting to escape from their guard." The jefe politico of this district is a man of education, and professional ability; he is a physician, trained in the City of Mexico; he is ingenious in mechanics, and has devised a number of instruments and inventions of a scientific kind.
"It was half an hour before the Jefe Politico, a Mexican official, corresponding somewhat to a mayor in an American city, passed through on his way out. "You will be able to see the consul, now," suggested the clerk, so Dave rose at once, passing into the inner office, where he was pleasantly greeted. Dave laid a sealed packet of papers on the desk before the consul.
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