1 with our guns and
"plunder," as baggage is called there, and a couple of the old Don's men
met us with saddle and pack animals. I never spent a pleasanter two
weeks in my life. The quiet, almost gloomy, old Don and I became fast
friends, and the hunting was good. The Don was a Spaniard, but
Josephine's mother had been a Mexican woman, and one noted for her
beauty. She had been dead some years at the time of our visit. Billy
devoted most of his time to the girl. They were a fine looking young
couple, he being strong and broad-shouldered, with laughing blue eyes
and light curly hair, she slender and perfect in outline, with a typical
Southern complexion, black eyes--and such eyes they were--and hair and
eyebrows like the raven's wing.
A few days before Billy and I were booked to resume our duties on the
deck of the "Mary Ann," Miss Josephine took my arm and walked me down
the yard and pumped me quietly about "Mr. Howell," as she called Billy.
She went into details a little, and I answered all questions as best I
could. All I said was in the young man's favor--it could not, in truth,
be otherwise.
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