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- The Yellow Snake
The Yellow Snake
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Excerpt from The Yellow Snake: A Novel
And, indeed, on this long journey of ours from New York she has developed many sweet and attractive qualities. I am sure Luz -unlike as is her name to her dark skin and over-developed figure -has the makings of a charming woman about her yet. Lucky for me, was it not, I took this enlightened view of her, or I should never have been here. And now I am only too delighted to find I was right. Her gratitude for what little consideration I showed her is really quite moving, - and so is her father's too. The General is just the nicest old gentleman in the world, somewhat stolid and formal, - his daughter takes after him in disposition as well as in his dark, heavy type, - but occupied only in thinking what kind-hearted thing he can do for us next.
"You know of old my habit of digressing: so don't expect a straight story from me at this late day. I meant to tell you about the house first, and then about the people. At a little hamlet, of a few cane and adobe huts, with a ruined church, like an ancient abbey, in the midst of them, we were met by a lively cavalcade, consisting of Don Angel, the son of the house, and the dependants of the hacienda, come out to welcome us. Don Angel is a mere boy, of perhaps eighteen. They had dismounted, and were resting under a pleasant shade, where some Indian women had oranges and lemons from their own trees for sale, but the moment of our arrival they leaped into the saddle again and began to dash along beside us in gallant style. They fired pistols in the air and made demonstrations of joy that were almost terrific. Their accoutrements - well, I am sending you herewith an aspiring attempt in water-colors, together with some photographs, to show the costumes of the country. The heavy spurs, the bauds around their hats, and the rows of coins down the legs of their trousers are all silver.
"I can't get over even the old men's wearing short jackets: you should see the rotund General in his!
"One of the party, whose name I learned was Don Walter Arroyo, looked particularly spirited on horseback. He was only an acquaintance, it appeared, who happened to be there at the time, and came along with the rest. But my attention was drawn away from their eccentricities by our coming to the Cerro. We rode through flowering hedges and shaded lanes, and presently there was the stately, long, low, white mansion before us.
"The Cerro is a truncated cone of three or four hundred feet in height. One side has been torn away, probably by the force of some ancient flow of lava, and discloses to view what was once the crater, and is now a natural bowl of exquisite verdure, with soft and pleasing slopes. In the centre of this open side, at the top of a gentle rise or ground, where it receives the breeze only from the most favoring quarters, and is sheltered against every inclemency, stands the imposing residence, spacious, sculptured, battlemented, and loop-holed against attack, and with a gabled belfry in which hang two tiers of old bronze bells, to summon the family to chapel or other domestic purposes.
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