Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
useless, bad swimmers, nervous, and totally unfit for roughing it under prevailing conditions.
Not only did my first escort's horses prove to be next to useless, but I noticed the same lack
of stamina and adaptation to climatic conditions among the others that accompanied me later.
I would like to see one of our well-fed, highly strung, high-stepping snorters that waste all
their energy in prancing around and tossing foam into the air, do a few days' travelling over
bad trails and through swamps, and this on any food it might rustle. The difference between
a range pony and a thoroughbred for hard work and roughing it is as great as that between an
elegant cabaret-dancer and a sturdy, weather-beaten Indian.
I lost no time, and as soon as my escort was ready we started out, with good prospects of
a few adventures. Ten soldiers and one officer were to see me through as far as the next army
detachment. The uniforms of the men were of an extraordinary mixture. The officer wore a
big, straw hat with a high crown, no shirt, but only a singlet and riding-breeches. The saddles
were of various types, some having done service in the U.S. cavalry. I had to hire a special
guide to take us through the swampy forests, for none of the men belonged to this part and
were not familiar with the paths and trails. Not far out of the village the officer pointed to a
tree on which he had hanged some bandits a few days before. In Mexico, people who have
thus been put to death are usually left hanging to serve as a warning to others, but I will not
go into details, although this was not to be the last time I witnessed such gruesome sights. Ex-
ecutions are such common occurrences during revolutions that people take hardly any notice
of them, and even the condemned face death with no more fear than the average man would
feel before having a tooth extracted. In novels and in the moving pictures we are often made
to believe that one American is worth a hundred Mexicans, but people who believe this have
not had the opportunity to see what these men are, be it in fighting or in dying.
I have seen Mexican soldiers lie down on the hard ground after a day's march, and go to
sleep without a bite of anything to eat, and rise again in the morning, ready to go on, and this
inacheerfulmood.Afew
frijoles
(beans)anda
tortilla
(corn-cake)isalltheyneedtokeepfit,
and should these fail, the soft inner leaves of the maguey plant, berries and some roots, will
keepthemgoingforanindefinitetime.FrijolesandtortillasareMexico'sclassicaldishes,and
hewhoobjectstothemshouldnottravelintheinteriorofthatcountry,forinmostplacesthere
is absolutely nothing else to eat.
Ourguide tookustowards the coast, faraway fromthe railroad. Itrained heavily,butnone
ofusmindedthisbecauseithelpedtocoolusalittle.Inseveralplaceswehadtoswim,andfor
long stretches we waded through slimy pools filled with typical swamp vegetation. We hal-
ted in a little settlement where we all crowded into a mudhouse. Some of the escort's horses
already showed signs of giving out, and lay down in the mud without touching any of the
coarsegrasswehadcutforthem.Althoughwettothemarrowandcoveredwithmud,themen
were quite cheerful, and when I turned up with a bottle of
comiteco
(a strong drink) that I had
bought in a hut, they were as happy as if they had been at a champagne party. One man had
brought a red glass in his kit, and at night he filled this halfway up with oil and stuck a wick
