the jaws opened and then began to close, I jerked with all my strength. I fell slowly backward upon the ship's deck. My hand was free. With what breath I had I moved toward the hole. I saw the sun shining above and climbed toward it. The next thing I saw was my father's face and I was lying on the river's sandy bank. He took my knife in his hand.
After I told him what had happened, my father said, "The knife saved your life. The burro clamped down upon it. See the mark here. The steel blade kept its jaws open. Enough to let you wrench yourself free."
He pulled me to my feet and I put on my leather pants and coat.
"Here," he said, passing the reins of his bay gelding to me, "ride Santana. He goes gentler than Tiburón."
"I'll ride my own horse," I said.
"Good, if you wish it."
"I wish it," I said, knowing that he didn't want me to say that my hand was numb.
"Does the hand hurt?"
"No."
Some?
"No."
"You were very brave," he said.
My father wanted me to be braver than I was. I wanted to say I was scared, both when the burro had hold of me and now, at this moment, but I didn't because he expected me to be as brave as Carlos. It was at times like this that I was angry at my father and at my dead brother, too.
"It was good fortune," I said.
"Fortune and bravery often go together," Don Saturnino said. "If you do not hurt, let us go."
I got on the stallion and settled myself in the saddle. "Yes, let us go," I said, though I could not grip the reins well with but one hand.
On the way home we talked about the pouchful of coins and my father decided to sell them in San Diego. The first coins he had sold in Los Angeles to a gringo trader.
"The gringo was curious about where I got them," he said. "Too curious to suit my fancy."
"What did you say to him?" I asked.
"I said that the coins had been in the family for many years. He looked at them for a long time. He turned them over and over. He was curious about the green spots on the coins. He said the coins must have been in the sea at some time. I told him that it was likely, since my grandfather was a captain of the sea."
"I didn't know that my great-grandfather was a captain of the sea."
"He was not," Don Saturnino said, and laughed. "We will try San Diego this time. Doña Dolores has invited the countryside, so we will need to make a good bargain. We will need to buy two barrels of
aguardiente
because all the Peraltas possess legs that are hollow. Some of the Bandinis and one or two of the Borregos, especially Don Alfonso Borrego, are hollow likewise."
My father also liked to drink the fiery
aguardiente.
"And we'll have music?" I said.
"Much music. And not from Dos Hermanos. We will search and find the best from everywhere. We will make the Peraltas envious. And all the rest. We will dance for two days and not pause except to fortify ourselves."
We came to the brow of the hill that lies between Dos Hermanos and the sea. Below us, in front of the big gate of our half-house, half-fort, fires were burning in pits the Indians had dug. The fires would burn for three days, until the night before the wedding. Then a thick layer of ashes would be sprinkled over the coals, and slabs of beef, half a cow, each wrapped in heavy wet cloth would be laid on the beds and covered with earth. The slabs would cook and steam all night and most of the next day. Already I was hungry, thinking about the tender meat.
My father said, "Are you pleased that it is Yris who marries the Peralta?"
"Yes, very pleased," I said.
"You have no regrets?"
"None."
"Someday I will hunt and find you a suitable young man. He will likely come from the North, where the young men, I hear, are more handsome than here in the South. And we will have a wedding such as no one has seen before. Would that please you?"
"When do you hunt for the young man?" I asked.
"Soon. Very soon. Not later than next spring. It may take some time before I find him, of course. Perhaps a year or so."
"Of course," I said,
After I told him what had happened, my father said, "The knife saved your life. The burro clamped down upon it. See the mark here. The steel blade kept its jaws open. Enough to let you wrench yourself free."
He pulled me to my feet and I put on my leather pants and coat.
"Here," he said, passing the reins of his bay gelding to me, "ride Santana. He goes gentler than Tiburón."
"I'll ride my own horse," I said.
"Good, if you wish it."
"I wish it," I said, knowing that he didn't want me to say that my hand was numb.
"Does the hand hurt?"
"No."
Some?
"No."
"You were very brave," he said.
My father wanted me to be braver than I was. I wanted to say I was scared, both when the burro had hold of me and now, at this moment, but I didn't because he expected me to be as brave as Carlos. It was at times like this that I was angry at my father and at my dead brother, too.
"It was good fortune," I said.
"Fortune and bravery often go together," Don Saturnino said. "If you do not hurt, let us go."
I got on the stallion and settled myself in the saddle. "Yes, let us go," I said, though I could not grip the reins well with but one hand.
On the way home we talked about the pouchful of coins and my father decided to sell them in San Diego. The first coins he had sold in Los Angeles to a gringo trader.
"The gringo was curious about where I got them," he said. "Too curious to suit my fancy."
"What did you say to him?" I asked.
"I said that the coins had been in the family for many years. He looked at them for a long time. He turned them over and over. He was curious about the green spots on the coins. He said the coins must have been in the sea at some time. I told him that it was likely, since my grandfather was a captain of the sea."
"I didn't know that my great-grandfather was a captain of the sea."
"He was not," Don Saturnino said, and laughed. "We will try San Diego this time. Doña Dolores has invited the countryside, so we will need to make a good bargain. We will need to buy two barrels of
aguardiente
because all the Peraltas possess legs that are hollow. Some of the Bandinis and one or two of the Borregos, especially Don Alfonso Borrego, are hollow likewise."
My father also liked to drink the fiery
aguardiente.
"And we'll have music?" I said.
"Much music. And not from Dos Hermanos. We will search and find the best from everywhere. We will make the Peraltas envious. And all the rest. We will dance for two days and not pause except to fortify ourselves."
We came to the brow of the hill that lies between Dos Hermanos and the sea. Below us, in front of the big gate of our half-house, half-fort, fires were burning in pits the Indians had dug. The fires would burn for three days, until the night before the wedding. Then a thick layer of ashes would be sprinkled over the coals, and slabs of beef, half a cow, each wrapped in heavy wet cloth would be laid on the beds and covered with earth. The slabs would cook and steam all night and most of the next day. Already I was hungry, thinking about the tender meat.
My father said, "Are you pleased that it is Yris who marries the Peralta?"
"Yes, very pleased," I said.
"You have no regrets?"
"None."
"Someday I will hunt and find you a suitable young man. He will likely come from the North, where the young men, I hear, are more handsome than here in the South. And we will have a wedding such as no one has seen before. Would that please you?"
"When do you hunt for the young man?" I asked.
"Soon. Very soon. Not later than next spring. It may take some time before I find him, of course. Perhaps a year or so."
"Of course," I said,
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