e, 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.

Faster and faster beat the drum, and the sobbing, rhythmic sound
thrilled my senses and filled my heart with an indescribable weird,
fierce longing. I saw a maiden approach taller and finer than the rest.
One glance of her soft, wild eyes and I flew to her arms. "Back,
Indians!" I shouted, "honor your queen!" and entered the lists of the
frolicsome dance. Wilder beat the drum and faster. As the old Indian
warmed to his work, he broke out in a doleful, monotonous song, the
words of which I did not understand. It sounded to me like this: