hese garments. In part at least
they were well adapted to the needs of this hot, arid climate,
particularly the broad-brimmed shade-hat, or sombrero. Silk stockings
and Spanish breeches, buttoned down the outer seams and open below the
knees, took the place of my tattered pantaloons and buffalo leggings.
For belt I wore a sash of scarlet silk, with ends dangling like a lady's
drape. Above it was a waistcoat as large as the jacket was short, while
the circular cloak over all gave me quite the air of an hidalgo. My one
difficulty was with the stiff jack-boots upon which jangled my
barbarously gaffed spurs. After months of freedom in pliant moccasins,
my feet found this hard confinement barely endurable even when I was
mounted.

In return for the numberless courtesies of Malgares, I was able to make
part payment by practising gratis among the people. It was, at the same
time, a most interesting experience to come into intimate contact with
the population, from the _gachupines_, or Spaniards of Old Spain, and
the native-born Spaniards, whom we call creoles, to the far more
numerous _mestizos_, or mixed-bloods, and their half-brothers, the
pueblo, or tame Indians.

One day I had gone up to see a patient at Atrisco, a little village next
below Albuquerque. It was, as I remember, the seventh of March, exactly
a month after I had left my comrades at the stockade in the valley. The
Commandant, at whose house I was staying, had borrowed for me a Spanish
grammar from Father Ambrosio, and I was deep in the verbs, when my host
stepped into the room, with a bow and a sonorous introduction:
"_Perdone, hermano!_ Present _usted_ Senor el Capitan Mun-go-meri-paike,
your compatriot."

I started up, and found myself confronting--Pike!

He stared back at me, half in doubt that it could be I, so vast was the
change in my appearance and health.

"John!" he exclaimed. "It cannot be!"

"Yet it is," I replied, aglow with delight.

There could be no mistaking him, if only that he still wore his scarlet
fur-lined cap and blanket cloak,--though much of his dress was new, and
his face presented far other than the ghastly, emaciated aspect it had
worn at our parting.

But as I reached out to clasp his hand, he suddenly recalled our
agreement not to recognize one another, and drew back with feigned
hauteur. "Who are you, sir? I do not know you."

"'T is of no use, Montgomery!" I cried. "I cannot hide my friendship. I
should call out to you