Part 3

At noon the servants had not yet overtaken us, and as we were fairly famished, we stopped at an Indian hut along the way, to partake of any hospitality the place might afford.

It did not look particularly inviting, I must confess. An old man, whose whole attire consisted of a pair of trousers and a hat, sat outside the door, the centre of a more or less scantily clad group of women and children, while around all, caloes, pigs, chickens, ducks, and cats ran riot.

I must say for the Indian of Honduras that no matter what his degree of filth, poverty, nakedness, or intelligence, he never hesitates for one instant to take in a stranger and share with him all that he has.

It was, perhaps, this novel and spontaneous kindness added to my more than perfect willingness to endure a restful separation from my mule, which induced me to get down and enter that house with all my inborn and inbred love of cleanliness and daintiness crying out within me.

Only one door led into the one room containing beds, table, chair, boxes, and oh, bliss! a hammock, which, dirty as it was, I was only too thankful to occupy. No window lighted the darkness of the place, or afforded an occasional breath of fresh air. The floor was packed earth and was so dirty that it was a perfect paradise for swarms of fleas and other insects.

Vincent shot a chicken, which one of the women cooked--a proceeding which an Indian woman can accomplish with greater celerity and success than any I have hitherto encountered. This fowl was simply delicious, and, with boiled eggs and tortillas in addition, served as an admirable means of refreshing our starving bodies, and we partook of all heartily, in spite of the more than unappetizing surroundings.

After our mules had finished their repast of cut grass, we proceeded on our route. Considering the avidity with which the harmless-looking little insects, known here as pulgas, had seized upon me as a new and delicious morsel upon which to prey, I was not sorry to flee from them, and the motion of the mule seemed to allay the horrible irritation which I could only locate as "all over."

During the afternoon we just skirted the town of Pespire, and then passed into shady lanes which wound in and out a country gradually becoming more undulating.

It was not a great while before we discovered that a sudden shower, so common in tropical countries, was upon us, and in all probability we had before us the pleasant prospect of a drenching.

We were not wrong in our guess, for the water, ere many moments had passed, came down in torrents. With one hand I held my umbrella and so protected my head and shoulders, and with the other guided my mule.

Before the rain ceased we came to a house where Vincent informed me we would find our quarters until morning.

Three women sat in front of the house, under shelter of the projecting roof, one smoking a cigarette and the other two shelling corn. A hammock was hung here, and two chairs, a bench, and a table completed the furniture of this outside room.

Mules, pigs, dogs, and chickens roamed at will in the yard directly in front, which was muddy and shiny, and reeking with filth.

My heart sank lower than ever within me, but summoning up what I could of my resolution to bear uncomplainingly whatever came, I got off my mule, stiff, lame, wet, and cold, and sat down in the hammock, wondering how much more I could endure.

We had not seen our servants since morning, and were becoming somewhat anxious, remembering the river and the rain, but still found consolation in the thought that the heavily laden pack mules could not travel as fast as we had done.

Hardly had we settled ourselves under this shelter when a man rode up, apparently "the lord of the manor." He was about fifty years of age, whiter than the women, and was getting a horrible goitre, an affliction that one of the girls, his daughter, was also suffering from, and which seemed quite a common one in the vicinity.

A few words of explanation from the pretty cigarette-smoker, who, though not his wife, seemed to be the mistress of the household, apparently satisfied him, and he subsequently took our presence as a matter of course.

He seated himself in the chair by the table, his supper of black beans, meat, cheese, and tortillas was brought and dispatched without the aid of either knife or fork, and then he turned his attention to our entertainment.

Notwithstanding the unwelcome sights and odors, we were becoming very hungry again, and as our men still abstained from putting in an appearance, we were more than glad to take the eggs, tortillas, and coffee given us. True it is that oftentimes during that six days, I ate and relished such food in places where, under ordinary circumstances, I would not have tasted a mouthful of the most tempting delicacies.

About dark one of the men came with three of the mules, but the other man had lost himself in trying to find us, and not until several hours later did he succeed in his quest.

Meanwhile I was secretly tormented by the painful anxiety to know where I was to sleep. One dark, ill-smelling room was all the house contained, except a shed used as a kitchen, and I could not see how the most ingenious hostess could make two guests of different sexes comfortable, however much she might incommode the family.

To my utter horror I learned that, with no conception of any possible scruples on my part, she had arranged for me to have one of the four beds, the women of the house the remaining three, while the master and Vincent were to occupy hammocks in the same room.

With stoical disregard of masculine observance, these native families disrobed themselves, skilfully it is true, though the process of necessity was a short one, and then, in company with their male companion, deliberately set themselves to watch my preparations for the night.

These last, you may be sure, were of the simplest kind. I took off my shoes and let down my hair, and then in my still wet dress, which was fortunately a flannel one, I crept into the bed the servant had made up with the clothes we carried with us.

Vincent's night toilet was still less elaborate.

He unbuckled the leather belt upon which hung his revolver, and brought it over to me with a brief injunction that I was to use it if need be. A startling suggestion truly, but the weapon gave me a sense of security, though it was such an enormous one that I knew with both hands on the trigger, both eyes tight shut, and mouth firmly set in the usual feminine way, I could never make the thing go off, in time to render me more than a post-mortem defence.

As the burning pine sticks which had furnished light for us, slowly crumbled into ashes, I heard a wonder-struck voice ask if all the American ladies went to bed with their clothes on, to which Vincent, sharing my desire to do or say nothing that could hurt their feelings, gravely replied that it was the national custom.

Of course I did not sleep, tired as I was--I was more than half afraid to close my eyes, and when I finally did summon up sufficient courage to do so, there ensued a series of disturbances that successfully banished any further somnolent inclination for the night.