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Updated: June 27, 2025
A strange-looking woman was seated in the bottom of the carreta an old woman, with long flowing hair, white as flax. She was silent, but her sharp eyes were bent upon the cibolero with a triumphant expression. Some regarded her with curiosity, but most with fear, akin to awe. These knew something of her, and whispered strange tales to one another. "Esta una bruxa! una hechicera!"
To this two or more pairs of oxen are attached in the most simple manner by lashing a cross-piece of wood to their horns which has already been made fast to the tongue. The animals have neither yoke nor harness, and the forward push of the head is the motive power by which the carreta is propelled. Once in motion, the noise of the wooden axle is such as to defy description.
Anastacio bent his keen malevolent eyes close above the young Spaniard's, then loosened his hold. "Bueno," he said. "I trust you." "The straw," said Roldan. "Bring it all here." Anastacio gave the order, and an immense carreta of straw was trundled up. "Now," said Roldan, "gather it into bunches the size of a man's head and tie each firmly.
"We'll no longer have track or trace to guide us, if this abominable sludge extend to the river; as I daresay it does. There we'll find the trail blind as an owl at noontide. As you see, the thing's nearly an inch thick all over the ground. 'Twould smother up the wheel-ruts of a loaded carreta." His words, clearly understood by both his young companions, cause them renewed uneasiness.
On the axletree and tongue rests a frame, constructed of square pieces of timber, six or eight feet in length, and four or five in breadth, into which are inserted a number of stakes about, four feet in length. This frame-work being covered and floored with raw hides, the carriage is complete. The carreta which we met was drawn by two yokes of oxen, driven by an Indian vaquero, mounted on a horse.
With a full purse of "pesos" a sixth of which would pay all expenses and the prospect of meeting with Antonio, the rough carreta seemed all at once transformed to an elegant coach, with springs and velvet cushions, such as Josefa had heard of, but had never seen!
As the sound drew nearer and became shriller, we would put our fingers in our ears to muffle the dismal tones, which we knew were only the creakings of the two wooden wheels of some Mexican carreta, laboriously bringing passengers to town, or perhaps a cruder one carrying hides to the embarcadero, or possibly supplies to adjacent ranchos.
"Well, captain; only very shortly after she arrived at the house of the woman, a carreta came up to the door, driven by a Tagno, and the girl that is, the daughter, who is called Josefa mounted into the carreta, taking the guera along with her; and off they went down below.
Then they came around a bend in the road, and I began to cry because they were all covered with blood, and one of them fell down.… My father slapped me and told me to shut up, or they would come and shoot us.” “But what did they look like? What were they doing?” Julia demanded frowning at him, impatient with his rambling narrative. “Well, in front there was un carreta del muerto.
Every one seemed to live out of doors, and though the ranchos were widely scattered, there was much visiting and social gayety. All who could, traveled on horseback; while the mother of the family, the children, and old people used the clumsy carreta with its squeaking wheels. One of the prettiest sights was a wedding procession as it escorted the bride from her home to the mission church.
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