In the small corral near by, the bulls bellowed hoarsely at the scent of
their grizzly neighbor and tossed dirt menacingly over their backs;
while above them the rude tiers of seats waited emptily for the yelling
humans who would crowd them later. Beyond, under a great, wide-spreading
live oak near the roasting pits, three fat young steers swung by their
heels from a horizontal limb, ready for the huge gridirons that stood
leaning against the trunk behind them. Indeed, the heads of those same
steers were even then roasting in their hide in the smaller pit of their
own, where the ashes were still warm, though the fire had been drawn
over-night.
The sun was not more than two hours high when Don Andres himself
appeared in his gala dress upon the veranda, to greet in flowery Spanish
the first arrivals among his guests. The senora, he explained
courteously, was still occupied, and the senorita, he averred fondly,
was sleeping still, because there would be no further opportunity to
sleep for many hours; but his house and all that he had was half theirs,
and they would honor him most by entering into their possessions.
Whereupon the senoras and the senoritas settled themselves in
comfortable chairs and waited, and inspected the house of this lord of
the valley, whose luxury was something to envy. Some of those senoras
walked upon bare, earthen floors when they were at home, and their black
eyes rested hungrily upon the polished, dark wood beneath their feet,
and upon the rugs that had come from Spain along with the paintings upon
the walls.
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