" The barking of half a dozen
mongrel curs leads him into the edge of the forest, and he comes upon
the residence of Fulano de Tal. The man has perhaps recently moved to
this spot, and has not had time or energy to build himself a "rancho,"
and therefore the homestead consists of about four yards of canvas
stretched across the branch of a tree like the roof of a tent.
Beneath this is a "New Home" sewing machine, a Brummagem bedstead, and a
small trunk, made burglar-proof by innumerable bands and fastenings of
bright tin, or even gilt wall-paper. Scattered around are the little
Fulanos, in costumes varying from nothing to very little.
Their mother ceases her cooking operations, wipes her hands on the
nearest child's head, and invites the visitor to dismount.
He answers that he is looking for her husband, and she directs him with
a sweep of the hand which covers a quadrant of the compass and includes
several square leagues of thick forest. Taking a likely track, however,
he soon hears the ring of axe-strokes, and finds his man patiently
chipping away at a felled tree, which is rapidly taking the form of a
baulk, with the sides as smooth as if sawn.
His horse is tied up near, and he takes the Mayor-domo through his
"corte," showing him the wood prepared for the carters.
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