CHAPTER V.

The consul’s office in Amapala was a comfortable edifice, composed of whole store, half office, and half court of justice.

It was situated near the water’s edge, and entered by a broad flight of stone steps. These gradients were very much the worse for wear, being persistently embroidered by detachments of the loungers of Amapala, which consisted generally of idle young lads who stuck like mussels, and peered within, and smoked and spat without, with intolerable pertinacity. A sortie made from the interior sometimes succeeded in dislodging them; but this effort on the part of the consul’s clerks more usually ended in strong language and violent perspiration than in any satisfactory result. I believe an earnest hope is daily avowed, that somebody coming in may effectually clear away impediments by treading the life out of some of these human pests.

Unfortunately also for the business public, a large _ceiba_ tree fronting the right side of the building spread wide its arms of dark leaves, and beneath this shade were clustered mules, water-carriers, citizens in various styles of dress and undress, water-jars, melons, and naked brown children.

The grouping certainly was picturesque. But how Consul Bahl has stood for so many years, as he has done, the nuisance of a conversazione and debating club combined, held within four feet of his house of business, surpasses my comprehension.

Through a part of this assemblage I wended my way in the early morning of the day preceding that on which I was to start for Aceituña. The youths on the steps made room for me with some alacrity; and it was whispered among them that perhaps it was not so sure that Eduardo Alvarez was going with me. There had been no agreement drawn up by El Consul, they knew; perhaps the Señora would choose some other _mozo_ (lad). The meaning of these remarks was simply this: Eduardo was a little in arrear for his lodgings and other matters, and unless I would advance him a part of his wages to pay his debts, he could not leave Amapala. Concerning this, I thought it well to consult Mr Bahl, and further, to ascertain whether that gentleman would recommend me to engage him.

The little white-faced clerk who had brought me from the ship was on the look-out for my visit. A curtain was drawn aside at a corner of the office a few minutes later, and Mr Bahl stepped forth. He was tall, gentlemanlike, and very kind in his manner. (The American men, all the world over, are always kind to women.) He said I had a long journey to go certainly, but I must not believe all the nonsense I may have heard about robbers, and all the rest of it. Common caution, and to refrain from travelling at dusk, were recommended.

“I sent you word last night,” continued the consul, “that I cannot provide you with the mules you require here; and as for a muleteer, there is not one in the place I can recommend.”

“You are sure that the custom-house officer at Aceituña can get these?” I inquired anxiously.

“A man has gone over there to fetch some things I want from the custom-house. I sent a note by him to Mr Z. asking if he can supply your requirements. If he cannot, which I don’t think likely, there is nothing to be done but to send or go to La Brea: very good animals can be got at La Brea.”

“Why are they so scarce here?” said I.

“Just as it happens; there are plenty when not wanted. I hope you will cross to Aceituña though; it will save you some leagues of rough road travelling. My large boat will take you across in rather more than an hour, and you could start as soon after landing at Aceituña as you choose.”

I acceded gratefully to this proposition, and then made inquiry concerning Eduardo Alvarez.

“He came down to speak to me last night,” replied Mr Bahl. “I suppose he has told you that he wants a little money in advance, should you engage him?”

“Yes; he wants to pay a few little debts, he tells me. The people of the house give him a good character, and I like the lad’s appearance.”

“As far as I know, the lad is decent enough. Like all his race, he is apt to be idle; but really there is little employment here for a tailor, and that is the trade by which he supports himself.

“By the by,” continued the consul, “as he comes from Comayagua, I certainly advise you to engage him, as you will have to take that route, and it is a great thing to secure a guide who knows some part of the country.”

Then a lounger on the steps was despatched to summon Eduardo Alvarez. This youth soon made his appearance, and entered the office with a whole train of his _confrères_ peeping in at the door. A rush was made at them by the little clerk, which frustrated them, evidently, in the intention of being within earshot. A chair was handed to me, and the consul and the lad carried on a conference behind the curtain.

The result of the interview was to this effect: I was to engage Eduardo Alvarez as my servant from Amapala to San Pedro Sula; to pay him fifteen pesos (something under three pounds English money), and to allow him at the rate of a peseta (tenpence) a day for his maintenance. I agreed to advance eight pesos, to enable him to pay his debts; and so that arrangement was concluded.

“I will draw up the regular official agreement before you start,” said the consul; “it will be better for Eduardo not to be too sure of the engagement; and I must be satisfied that he does pay what he owes. Never mind about the money; I will give him the eight pesos, and you can settle with me to-morrow.”

“Have you a hammock in your store?” I inquire; “it will be such a comfort in the places through which we may have to pass.”

“A hammock will save you many annoyances, as you will not be obliged to rest on the horrid bed-places of the country; and the lad can look-out for a verandah to sling it in. I would advise you also to take a mosquito-net. A coarse green net is best. White attracts the flies at night.”

We go into the store, and I select these articles. “Then,” said the consul, “you have brought your side-saddle with you, of course?”

“Side-saddle! No; I never thought of it. Can’t I hire that with the mule?”

“I am afraid not here. A lady’s saddle is private property, generally speaking. You may, perhaps, purchase one from some of the women about. Some one may like to make a little money. Eduardo, go out and ask among the women whether they know of any one who has a lady’s saddle to sell.”

As he went off Mr Bahl added, “I cannot come with you, but be sure and don’t give more than twelve pesos.” The lad very soon executed the consul’s bidding, and in a short time were collected ten or twelve persons, declaring they all possessed the very thing. Eduardo found himself suddenly an important personage.

“Bring all of you the saddles you have to sell, and put them here,” said he, indicating a vacant spot, which looked like chocolate-powder. “I must see what they are like before I advise the Señora to purchase.”

Away flew the women, and in a very short space of time several very extraordinary specimens of the leather trade were exhibited. In the general excitement, the lad had overlooked me altogether, and the others did not know that I understood the idiom.

“What do you think she will pay for this?” asked one, as she held up an enormous side-saddle, which was deficient in girths and stirrup, and which burst out in all directions with lumps of hair and padding. “Say fifteen pesos?”

An indignant “_vaya, vaya_” (get along) was the only attention bestowed on this candidate.

“Here is a saddle—a splendid saddle,” said another, as she clutched the article from the head of a boy, who was carrying it into the ring. “See here! real Mexican; look at the embroidery. The English lady can have it for eighteen pesos. Too much?” continued she; “no; these English can pay. Say eighteen pesos, _mozo_, and there will be one for thyself.”

Eduardo stooped down and examined this last offering. “This might do; but, see, the pommel is half broken through. Is there any way of getting this repaired?” he inquired.

“Ah, without doubt,” replied the owner. “I can take it to Ignacio Gomez; he will make it all safe by _mañana_” (to-morrow).

The indefinite space of time indicated by _mañana_ was known well enough to Eduardo. He might very likely see no more of that saddle for a week. He, however, said nothing to this, but assured the woman that the lady would not give that price.

“Ah, but tell her that there is no other in the place,” suggested a bright spirit.

“That won’t do, woman,” retorted Eduardo. “The consul told the Señora that he knew there was a side-saddle belonging to the custom-house officer’s wife at Aceituña.”

“She would not sell it,” suggested a man.

“She might hire it, though,” interposed a fat woman, crowned with a bright yellow handkerchief. “No, no; the saddle must be bought here, good lad: the widow Niccoli has a woman’s saddle. Wait here: I will go and look for the widow Niccoli.”

She sped away, and returned with a side-saddle, it is true; but such a rag! It could hardly hold together on the woman’s head.

Yes, it wanted this and that, she agreed, as Eduardo pointed out its shortcomings. “Ah, yes, the rats must have eaten this piece of the flap, and there are no girths. Well, we will put these on. _Mozo_, this saddle will last for a little way; and then, you know, you can buy another farther on. The English lady won’t mind. They can pay, these English! Ah——”

What answer Eduardo was prepared to give to this free-and-easy proposition, I do not know; and as my patience was getting exhausted, and my back was beginning to frizzle with the heat of the sun, I determined to cut matters short. Walking into the circle, I said in the best Spanish I could command, “I will not buy one of these; and, moreover, I will not give more than twelve pesos for the best saddle in Amapala.”

Such an interruption in most places, and with most people in any other part of the civilised world, would have called forth some excuses, or necessitated a speedy retreat, on the part of even the most hardened. Here, if the effect were electrical, it was in quite another way.

“Ah se habla nuestra idioma!” (she speaks our idiom) exclaimed the fat wretch who had proposed to cheat me so unblushingly. “Como es ella bonita, ed pequenita para una Inglesa”—(she is nice-looking, and small for an Englishwoman). The others crowded round me, some taking and stroking my hands, expressing regret that they did not know that I understood their “idioma.”

It was difficult to know what to say, but I thought it right to express my surprise that they should combine to take advantage of a stranger, and that stranger a “Soltera,” I added with great emphasis.

“Ah, they were sorry; they did not know; and all English have gold. No, they were wrong; a Soltera should have sympathy. But ah, they were so poor! It was so hard to live! &c., &c. Have we not to live in all countries, Señora?”

I told them I was poor too, and that to pay a fair price was all I could do. So saying, I left them, and went straight to the _posada_.

The sun was now so powerful that it was a relief to undress and lie down. Hardly had I settled for a sleep, than a thud resounded upon the outer door, the one which opened on the street.

“Who is there? What do you want?”

“It is Antonio. He has a word to say.”

“I do not know Antonio. Has the consul sent you?”

“No, Señora. I want you to take me as ‘_mozo de mano_,’ for your journey.”

“Thank you; but I have engaged Eduardo Alvarez.”

“Think it over again, Señora. I should suit far better. I am a man of confidence, of maturity. Eduardo is only a boy, and ah! he knows nothing. Let me see you, Señora.”

“It is impossible,” I replied, “I am going to rest for a few hours; I cannot talk more.”

“Well, then, I return again,” contested the voice of Antonio.

“No, no,” I called out; “once for all, I have engaged Eduardo.”

“I know the agreement has not been signed;” persisted my tormentor, “will you see me before you sign the agreement, Señora?”

“No, don’t come again,” replied I, in a very decided tone. There is a lingering at the door, and at length Antonio takes himself off.

“Evidently no business is private here,” say I to myself, as I roll the mosquito-net round me, and fall into a refreshing sleep.

A long time after this, as it appears to me, three gentle taps are heard upon the opposite door, opening into the garden of the _posada_.

This is free from public intrusion, and I call “Come in” through the mosquito-net. Eduardo appears, carrying on his head a side-saddle. He brings it towards me, and I put out my hand to touch it. There is no question of this: it is a beautiful, nearly new, lady’s saddle, and it appears to be in excellent order.

I ask Eduardo whence he has procured this treasure?

“From the widow of the consul’s brother. Señor Bahl thought of her just after you left the office, and he sent his _mozo_ to see about it.”

“The lady,” he added, “would come and visit you, but she lives a little way in the country; and we go to Aceituña to-morrow morning.”

“I am really very much obliged to the lady,” I answered, as I looked at the pretty saddle of scarlet leather, handsomely stitched over with a flower pattern; “what am I to pay?”

“Twelve pesos, the sum the consul told you,” the lad replied; “and, Señora, the lady is to give me a peso for carrying, and going to her. You do not object, Señora?”

“Certainly not; you have earned the money fairly. Am I to pay you now?”

“No, Señora; you are to pay to-morrow to the consul. We have to go to the office early, to get my agreement made out, I was desired to tell you. Will you go into the _comedor_ (dining-room), or shall I bring you something here?”

Recollecting what was the fare on the preceding day, I elect to stay where I am, and ask the lad to bring me some coffee, and, if possible, a roll of bread with it, and some bananas. Directly after I had discussed this meal, which was all very good of its kind, I dressed and went out to sit in the verandah on the garden-side of the _posada_.

Hardly had I sat there many minutes, when a lad belonging to the house announced that the consul’s black cook wanted to see me.

“Ask him what he wants?” I rejoined. “Does he bring a note from Señor Bahl?”

In these countries, the most trifling communications between English-speaking people are always effected by note or letter. To trust to messages here would be the height of madness.

“No,” answered the _mozo_; “the cook wants to see you himself.” Before I could resolve whether I would receive him or not, the man stood before me.

Pulling off his cap, he said, “Very faine night, ma’am—very fa-ine. You comprehend me English?”

“Yes; what do you come here for? And, please, stand a little aside; I want all the air I can get.” He smelt of fish and black man very strongly; and this, combined with a _soupçon_ of kerosene oil, somewhere near, was too much for my olfactory nerves.

“Oh ya-as, ya-as, suttingly. What I going say is very private. You go way to-morrow?”

“Yes; what of that?”

“Wa-ay, you know, you want servant, ma’am, strong, fight the way,—’sperience,—a very ’spectable servant, eh?”

“I have got one. Your master has made the necessary arrangements with Eduardo Alvarez. You need not take any trouble about this,” I answer.

“Eduardo Alvarez. Bah I He worth nothing ’t-all; poor trash—only boy in wine-shop; go about country mending clothes; he suit you! No. Besides, Consul Bahl has not drawn out ’greement.”

“That will be done to-morrow morning,” I said; and, to get rid of him, I rose to go into my room as I spoke.

The fellow, however, was too quick for me, and he planted his square, powerful frame in my path.

“Look yaare,” said he; “you take me along. I sa-arve you well—good fight—good cook. It will cost you money, but I am good serva-ant, ah. I quite fit to take care of a lady.”

What I should have done I can scarcely say, as there was no one that I could call, the household being all within doors, or clacking on the other side of the verandah. Most unexpectedly I got immediate and efficient aid in the advent of “Lobo,” one of the dogs of the house.

Now Lobo was a very delightful little beast, and we had become great friends. He bore the character of being such a fool, that he would put up with anything. Great, therefore, was my surprise when I saw him fly towards the “captain,” every nerve in his body shaking with rage.

With a yell the “captain” bounded past me, and was away down to the shore before I could speak. I had not been informed that Lobo had a special dislike to black people; and to the “captain” in particular. I felt very much obliged to the dog also, for giving me an opportunity of seeing the “captain’s” good fight; the insertion of the letter “l” describes the thing much more accurately.

Once more we go to the consul’s office at an early and punctual time. Eduardo meets me, arrayed in a clean shirt and a large Panama hat. Kind Mr Bahl takes me into his store, and gives me one or two edible matters, to help out the rations; amongst which, two tins of portable soup were particularly acceptable.

The boat is being got ready, and time passes, so that we are already nearly an hour late in starting.

Mr Bahl asked me if I had not been a good deal pestered by lads “applying personally” for the situation which Eduardo Alvarez now filled.

I said that there had been some other candidates, and that one of them was a personal friend of his own.

“A personal friend of mine? I have not the faintest idea to whom you can allude.”

“A military character—one who has done wonders in three revolutions.”

“Ah! I see now; you mean that black rascal, my cook.”

“The very person. He has tormented me nearly out of my senses to take him with me,” I answered.

“I wish you had told me this before,—the fat rascal. What I have done for him—for he quarrels with most of his employers—would take too long to tell. He gets good wages, very good wages; and now that he is used to the place, he wants to go off.”

“I think this sort of thing is the fashion all the world over; but I should never have taken the man. I don’t like him,” I replied.

“When you are fairly gone, I will speak to him about his conduct. He never asked my permission, or hinted, even, that he wanted to leave,” returned Mr Bahl, with great indignation.

There was not a chance of our being fairly gone yet awhile; for the boat was not in sight, and there were no preparations going on either in office or store, as far as I could see, to expedite matters. I ventured to remark that it was getting late.

“Oh yes,” returned the consul; “we don’t mind for an hour or so here. You will soon fall into the custom of the country. There is no fuss and flurry, and things, in the long-run, turn out just as well. One of the boatmen has not come round, but it will all be well. Just sit down in the office, and wait a little.”

So I sat in the office, and Eduardo hied to the steps, and was soon in high gossip with all the loungers in Amapala.

Another half-hour passed, and then the little clerk, seeing that I was getting impatient, came from behind his railed-off space, and informed me that the boat would be ready very soon; he had heard the boatman’s voice. Would I not, in the meantime, take a glass of beer? Mr Bahl had desired him to offer it.

I was very hot, and drank the small glass of Bass’s ale with relish; and I was further quite mollified on seeing the boat at the landing-place, and Eduardo pulling in the luggage. There was a good deal of delay before all was ready; but at last everything was on board, and we were seated in the boat and bound for Aceituña.

“You will not be able to get on to-day,” were the consul’s last words; “better stay at Aceituña for the night, and start at daybreak to-morrow. Good-bye. Take care of the lady, Eduardo.” So saying, the kindly gentleman turned into his office.

Eduardo showed me his contract paper as we went along. I had the original in my pocket, having signed it, as well as he, the first thing after arriving at the office.

“Mine is a copy, I know; but the consul gave it to me, because I want to show it to my friends when we arrive at Comayagua,” the lad said. “I hope you will stay a day at Comayagua, Señora.”

“I hope so: you will be able to go to your friends for a few hours,” I replied.

“And if I serve you well, will you keep me when we arrive at San Pedro Sula?”

“That I cannot promise; but you may be sure that I will do what I can to help you. If I cannot retain you, I daresay other people will require your services.”

We had now got into the open sea, and only the red roofs and tufted palm-trees of Amapala could be seen in the distance. There was a light wind, and the fresh air was most invigorating, as we skirted some mountainous land, which in some parts was thickly overgrown with brushwood and dark herbage; in others the coast was nearly bare.

The place looked so bleak and solitary, that I was prompted to ask one of the boatmen if any wild animals existed there.

“Oh yes,” he replied, “there are some; _muy malos, muy malos_” (very evil, very evil).

“What are their names?” I inquired; for I thought here might prove the solution of the tiger question.

“Serpents—one or two very bad kinds—and other creatures.”

“What are the names of the ‘other creatures’?”

“Tigers of the mountain. Ah! I should not like to walk in that brushwood; would you, Candido?” said the man, appealing to his fellow-labourer.

I afterwards learned, from reliable authority, that what are designated “tigers of the mountain,” are, in reality, small leopards. But they are fierce enough, and in many instances have taken human life. The skin of these animals is very beautiful, and forms sometimes the chief ornament of a Hondureian house.

After an hour’s good rowing, the boat was turned into a narrow creek, bordered on either side with overhanging trees. This was, in a measure, a relief from the heat of the sun, which, in spite of the awning, was beginning to penetrate through my hat. Here was little to interest us, save sometimes the having to exert ourselves in order to keep the boughs of the trees out of our faces. The creek grew narrower, and at length a short point of land gave evidence that we were in front of the custom-house at Aceituña.