Presently came another, then another, and another, until the bright
rocks were covered with dusky forms, the heads bobbing just above the
surface, supported on stump or stone. The boys barely recognised
Anastacio. Where was that commanding presence, that haughty mien? Bowed
like an old man, blind from smoke, with simmering brain, he reeled into
the water with as little dignity as his creatures.
But in less than an hour all had sprung forth briskly, danced about in
the sun to dry, and started on a run for the pueblo. Roldan and Adan
followed close, knowing that a feast alone would satisfy appetite after
the temascal. And in a little time the smell of roast meat pervaded the
morning, great cakes were roasting. The boys were invited to eat apart
with Anastacio. At the conclusion of the meal the host, who had not
spoken, solemnly poured out three glasses of fire-water. He swallowed
his at a gulp. The boys sipped a few drops, winking rapidly. Then Roldan
thought it time to speak: his chief was visibly thawed.
"What are you keeping us for?" he asked.
"Ransom." Anastacio lit a cigarrito--one of the padre's--and lay back
on a bearskin.
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