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Grim riders in scrapes and broad sombreros are his escort. The guns on their shoulders and their jingling machetes prove them native cavalry. For half an hour Valois is busy keeping his seat in the saddle. These are no amiable captors. The lad's heart is sad. He speaks Spanish as fluently as his native French. Every word is familiar. A camp-fire flickers in the live-oaks. He is bidden to dismount.
Take 5,000 ministers from New England, 5,000 presidents of colleges, and 5,000 solid business men, and their families, and take them to Santo Domingo; and then you will see the effect of climate. The second generation, you will see barefooted boys riding bareback on a mule, with their hair sticking out of the top of their sombreros, with a rooster under each arm, going to a cock-fight on Sunday."
Not a petticoat was in sight to offset the spurs and sombreros that filed into breakfast from every point in the compass, prepared to eat primitively, joke broadly, and quarrel speedily if that sensitive and often inconsistent something they called honor should be brushed however lightly.
The strangers had been making their way along a lower level of the terraced plain, hidden by the grain, not twenty yards away, and parallel with the road they were now ascending to join. Their figures were alike formless in long striped serapes, and their features undistinguishable under stiff black sombreros. "Buenas noches, senor," said the second voice, in formal and cautious deliberation.
Premier Reid, of New South Wales, followed, escorted by the New South Wales Lancers and the Mounted Rifles, with their gray sombreros and black cocks' plumes.
Harry and Jerry Curtis had clothes similar to those they had bought for Tom, while the Indians wore over their shirts new deer-skin embroidered hunting-shirts, and had fringed Mexican leggings instead of breeches and boots. They, too, had procured Mexican sombreros.
You don't expect us to knock round in those, do you?" "Sure not. But if you wore those caps you'd get sunstruck out on the plains. We've got some sombreros you can take." As the boys trooped out onto the piazza Tom espied a five-bar fence about a hundred yards from the house. "That's the horse corral," explained Horace, noting the direction of his friend's gaze.
"A party of horsemen are riding this way. And they are Mexicans." "Rhoda!" cried Nan, "you can't see that through those glasses." "No; I cannot distinguish the horsemen. But I can see the little flashes moving across the saddle of the Gap and down into the valley on this side. And I know they are Mexicans because those flashes are the sun's rays shining on the silver trimming on their sombreros.
Upon it, and leaning against a hitching-rail, were men of varying ages, most of them slovenly in old jeans and slouched sombreros. Some were booted, belted, and spurred. No man there wore a coat, but all wore vests. The guns in that group would have outnumbered the men. It was a crowd seemingly too lazy to be curious.
All this he explained in a few brief words to his companion. Then both boys crouched low, peering over the cliff, having first removed their sombreros. What they saw, a few moments later, surprised them very much indeed. The horsemen in single file suddenly appeared out of a draw to the east and headed for the rock where the lads were in hiding. "Look!
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