CHAPTER III
The year that Ramon returned to his native town the annual fair, whichtook place at the fair-grounds in Old Town, was an especially gorgeous andthrongful event, rich in spectacle and incident. A steer was roped andhog-tied in record time by Clay MacGarnigal of Lincoln County. Aseven-mile relay race was won by a buck named Slonny Begay. In the broncobusting contest two men were injured to the huge enjoyment of the crowd.The twenty-seventh cavalry from Fort Bliss performed a sham battle. Thehome team beat several other teams. Enormous apples raised by irrigationin the Pecos Valley attracted much attention, and a hungry Mexicanabsconded with a prize Buff Orpington rooster.
Twice a day the single narrow street which connected the neat brick andframe respectability of New Town with the picturesque _adobe_ squalor ofOld Town was filled by a curiously varied crowd. The tourist from theEast, distinguished by his camera and his unnecessary umbrella, jostledthe Pueblo squaw from Isleta, with her latest-born slung over her shoulderin a fold of red blanket. Mexican families from the country marched insingle file, the men first, then the women enveloped in huge black shawls,carrying babies and leading older children by the hand. Cowboys, Indiansand soldiers raced their horses through the swarming street with recklessskill. Automobiles honked and fretted. The street cars, bulging humanityat every door and window, strove in vain to relieve the situation. Severalchildren and numerous pigs and chickens were run over. From the unpavedstreet to the cloudless sky rose a vast cloud of dust, such as only arainless country made of sand can produce. Dust was in every one's eyesand mouth and upon every one's clothing. It was the unofficial badge ofthe gathering. It turned the green of the cottonwood trees to grey, andlay in wait for unsuspecting teeth between the halves of hamburgersandwiches sold at corner booths.
Ramon, who had obtained a pass to the grounds through the influence of hisuncle, went to the fair every day, although he was not really pleased withit. He was assured by every one that it was the greatest fair ever held inthe southwest, but to him it seemed smaller, dustier and less excitingthan the fairs he had attended in his boyhood.
This impression harmonized with a general feeling of discontent which hadpossessed him since his return. He had obtained a position in the officeof a lawyer at fifty dollars a month, and spent the greater part of eachday making out briefs and borrowing books for his employer from otherlawyers. It seemed to him a petty and futile occupation, and the way toanything better was long and obscure. The town was full of other younglawyers who were doing the same things and doing them with a better gracethan he. They were impelled by a great desire to make money. He, too,would have liked a great deal of money, but he had no taste for piling itup dollar by dollar. The only thing that cheered him was the prospect ofinheriting his uncle's wealth, and that was an uncertain prospect. DonDiego seemed to be doing what he could to get rid of his property beforehe died.
Local society did not please Ramon either. The girls of the gringofamilies were not nearly as pretty, for the most part, as the ones he hadseen in the East. The dryness and the scorching sun had a bad effect ontheir complexions. The girls of his own race did not much interest him;his liking was for blondes. And besides, girls were relatively scarce inthe West because of the great number of men who came from the East.Competition for their favours was keen, and he could not competesuccessfully because he had so little money.
The fair held but one new experience for him, and that was the Montezumaball. This took place on the evening of the last day, and was an exclusiveinvitation event, designed to give elegance to the fair by bringingtogether prominent persons from all parts of the state. Ramon had neverattended a Montezuma ball, as he had been considered a mere boy before hisdeparture for college and had not owned a dress suit. But this lack hadnow been supplied, and he had obtained an invitation through the Governorof the State, who happened to be a Mexican.
He went to the ball with his mother and his eldest sister in a carriagewhich had been among the family possessions for about a quarter of acentury. It had once been a fine equipage, and had been drawn by aspirited team in the days before Felipe Delcasar lost all his money, butnow it had a look of decay, and the team consisted of a couple of roughcoated, low-headed brutes, one of which was noticeably smaller than theother. The coachman was a ragged native who did odd jobs about theDelcasar house.
The Montezuma ball took place in the new Eldorado Hotel which had recentlybeen built by the railroad company for the entertainment of itstranscontinental passengers. It was not a beautiful building, but it wasan apt expression of the town's personality. Designed in the ancient styleof the early Spanish missions, long, low and sprawling, with deepverandahs, odd little towers and arched gateways it was made of cement andits service and prices were of the Manhattan school. A little group ofPueblo Indians, lonesomely picturesque in buck-skin and red blankets, withsilver and turquoise rings and bracelets, were always seated before itsdoors, trying to sell fruit and pottery to well-tailored tourists. It hada museum of Southwestern antiquities and curios, where a Navajo squawsulkily wove blankets on a handloom for the edification of the guildedstranger from the East. On the platform in front of it, perspiringMexicans smashed baggage and performed the other hard labour of a modernterminal.
Thus the Eldorado Hotel was rich in that contrast between the old and thenew which everywhere characterized the town. Generally speaking, the oldwas on exhibition or at work, while the new was at leisure or in charge.
When the Delcasar carriage reached the hotel, it had to take its place ina long line of crawling vehicles, most of which were motor cars. Ramonfelt acutely humiliated to arrive at the ball in a decrepit-looking rigwhen nearly every one else came in an automobile. He hoped that no onewould notice them. But the smaller of the two horses, which had spent mostof his life in the country, became frightened, reared, plunged, andfinally backed the rig into one of the cars, smashing a headlight,blocking traffic, and making the Delcasars a target for searchlights andoaths. The Dona Delcasar, a ponderous and swarthy woman in voluminousblack silk, became excited and stood up in the carriage, shouting shrilland useless directions to the coachman in Spanish. People began to laugh.Ramon roughly seized his mother by the arm and dragged her down. He wastrembling with rage and embarassment.
It was an immense relief to him when he had deposited the two women onchairs and was able to wander away by himself. He took up his position ina doorway and watched the opening of the ball with a cold and disapprovingeye. The beginning was stiff, for many of those present were unknown toeach other and had little in common. Most of them were "Americans," Jewsand Mexicans. The men were all a good deal alike in their dress suits, butthe women displayed an astonishing variety. There were tall gawky blondewives of prominent cattlemen; little natty black-eyed Jewesses, bestdressed of all; swarthy Mexican mothers of politically important families,resplendent in black silk and diamonds; and pretty dark Mexican girls ofthe younger generation, who did not look at all like the sei?1/2oritas ofromance, but talked, dressed and flirted in a thoroughly American manner.
The affair finally got under way in the form of a grand march, whichtoured the hall a couple of times and disintegrated into waltzing couples.Ramon watched this proceeding and several other dances without feeling anydesire to take part. He was in a state of grand and gloomy discontent,which was not wholly unpleasant, as is often the case with youthfulglooms. He even permitted himself to smile at some of the capers cut byprominent citizens. But presently his gaze settled upon one couple with areal sense of resentment and uneasiness. The couple consisted of hisuncle, Diego Delcasar, and the wife of James MacDougall, the lawyer andreal estate operator with whom the Don had formed a partnership, and whomRamon believed to be systematically fleecing the old man.
Don Diego was a big, paunchy Mexican with a smooth brown face, strikinglyset off by fierce white whiskers. His partner was a tall, tight-lipped,angular woman, who danced painfully, but with determination. The two hadnothing to say to each other, but b
oth of them smiled resolutely, and theDon visibly perspired under the effort of steering his inflexible friend.
Although he did not formulate the idea, this couple was to Ramon a symbolof the disgust with which the life of his native town inspired him. Herewas the Mexican sedulously currying favour with the gringo, who robbed himfor his pains. And here was the specific example of that relation whichpromised to rob Ramon of his heritage.
For the gringos he felt a cold hostility--a sense of antagonism anddifference--but it was his senile and fatuous uncle, the type of his owndefeated race, whom he despised.