“Hal, I believe these fellows are porters or baggage-men,” said Ken.
And he showed his trunk check to one of them. The fellow jerked it out
of Ken’s hand and ran off. The boys ran after him. They were relieved
to see him enter a shed full of baggage. And they were amazed to see
him kneel down and take their trunk on his back. It was a big trunk and
heavy. The man was small and light.
“It’ll smash him!” cried Hal.
But the little _cargodore_ walked off with the trunk on his back. Then
Ken and Hal saw other _cargodores_ packing trunks. The boys kept close
to their man and used their eyes with exceeding interest. The sun was
setting, and the square, colored buildings looked as if they were in a
picture of Spain.
“Look at the boats--canoes!” cried Hal, as they crossed a canal.
Ken saw long narrow canoes that had been hollowed out from straight
tree-trunks. They were of every size, and some of the paddles were
enormous. Crowds of natives were jabbering and jostling each other at a
rude wharf.
“Look back,” called Hal, who seemed to have a hundred eyes.
Ken saw a wide, beautiful river, shining red in the sunset. Palm-trees
on the distant shore showed black against the horizon.
“Hal, that’s the Panuco. What a river!”
“Makes the Susquehanna look like a creek,” was Hal’s comment.
The _cargodore_ led the boys through a plaza, down a narrow street to
the hotel. Here they were made to feel at home. The proprietor was a
kindly American. The hotel was crowded, and many of the guests were
Englishmen there for the tarpon-fishing, with sportsmen from the States,
and settlers coming in to take up new lands. It was pleasant for Ken
and Hal to hear their own language once more. After dinner they sallied
forth to see the town. But the narrow dark streets and the blanketed
natives stealing silently along were not particularly inviting. The
boys got no farther than the plaza, where they sat down on a bench. It
was wholly different from any American town. Ken suspected that Hal was
getting homesick, for the boy was quiet and inactive.
“I don’t like this place,” said Hal. “What ’d you ever want to drag me
way down here for?”
“Humph! drag you? Say, you pestered the life out of me, and bothered
Dad till he was mad, and worried mother sick to let you come on this
trip.”
Hal hung his head.
“Now, you’re not going to show a streak of yellow?” asked Ken. He knew
how to stir his brother.
Hal rose to the attack and scornfully repudiated the insinuation. Ken
replied that they were in a new country and must not reach conclusions
too hastily.
“I liked it back up there at the little village where we saw the green
river and the big trees with the gray streamers on them,” said Hal.
“Well, I liked that myself,” rejoined Ken. “I’d like to go back there
and put a boat in the river and come all the way here.”
Ken had almost unconsciously expressed the thought that had been forming
in his mind. Hal turned slowly and looked at his brother.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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