an Indian, who was, if possible, more ancient than the drum.  As we approached we heard the muffled sound of the drum within.  “Caramba, amigo!” said my friend; “they are at it already, and judging from the sound, they are very gay to-night.  Madre santissima!  I remember that this is a great night for these Indians, as it is the anniversary of the Noche Triste, which they celebrate in commemoration of the Aztec’s victory over the Spaniards when the Indians almost wiped their enemies off the face of the earth.  Senor, to tell the truth, rather would I turn my horse’s head homeward.  Pray, let us return!” “And why, amigo,” I asked.  “Because this has always been a day of ill luck for our family,” said Don Reyes.  “It began with the misfortune of the famed Knight Don Pedro Alvarado, the bravest of men and the right hand of Don Fernando Cortez.  In the bloody retreat of the Spaniards from Mexico, in their fight with the Aztecs, during the Noche Triste, Don Pedro Alvarado, from whom we were descended, lost his mare through a deadly arrow.  “Muy bien, amigo Don Reyes,” said I; “if you fear these people, I advise you to return home to Dona Josefita, but I shall go on alone.”  “I fear not man or beast!” flared up Don Reyes, “as you well know, friend, but these are heathen fiends, not human, who worship a huge rattlesnake, which they keep in an underground den and feed with the innocent blood of Christian babes.  Lead on, senor, I shall follow.  I see it is as Dona Josefita, my little wife, says:  “If these young gringos crave a thing, there is no use in denying them, for they seem to compel!  To the very door of that uncanny place I follow you, amigo, but enter therein I shall not, unless I be first absolved from my sins and shriven by the padre.”

We had now arrived at the door of the estufa (oven), where the entertainment was going on, full blast.  I alighted and my friend took charge of my horse and stationed himself at the door while I got down on all fours and crawled inside.  I seated myself on a little bench at one side of the entrance.  When my eyes got accustomed to the dense atmosphere of the place, I observed that the room was full of people, dancing in couples with a peculiar slow-waltz step.  The ladies stayed in their places while the men made the rounds of the hall.  After a few turns with a lady, they shuffled along to the next one, continually exchanging their partners.  As the dancers passed me by, one after another, they noticed me, and many among them scowled and looked angry and displeased.  Suddenly the drum stopped for a few minutes.  Then it began in a faster tempo.  Now the men remained stationary, while the ladies made the circuit of the room and each one in her turn passed in front of me.  They looked lovely in their costumes of finely embroidered snow-white single garments, trimmed with many silver ornaments and trinkets and in their short calico skirts and beautiful moccasins.  Their limbs were tastefully swathed in white buckskin leggins, which completed the costume.