Venders of guava
jelly, rude pottery, and straw mats hastily spread out their
merchandise on the muddy ground and began to dilate loudly on their
merits. A scantily clad man held aloft a rare leopard skin, which he
vigorously offered for two _pesos_ gold. Slatternly women, peddling
queer delectables of uncertain composition, waved their thin, bare
arms and shrilly advertised their wares. Black, naked children bobbed
excitedly about; and gaunt dogs and shrieking pigs scampered
recklessly through the crowd and added to the general confusion. Here
and there Jose could see dignified looking men, dressed in white
cotton, and wearing straw--_jipijapa_--hats. These were merchants,
patiently awaiting consignments which they had perhaps ordered months
before. Crazy, ramshackle dwellings, perched unsteadily upon long,
slender stilts, rose from the water's edge; but substantial brick
buildings of fair size, with red-tile roofs and whitewashed walls,
mingled at intervals with the thatched mud huts and rude hovels
farther within the town. In a distant doorway he descried a woman
nursing a babe at one breast and a suckling pig at the other.
Convention is rigid in these Colombian river towns; but it is widely
inclusive.

"Come ashore with me, Padre, and forget what is worrying you," said
Jose's new acquaintance, taking him by the arm. "I have friends
here--_Hola!_ Padre Diego Guillermo!" he suddenly called, catching
sight of a black-frocked priest standing in the crowd on the shore.

The priest addressed, a short, stout, coarse-featured man of perhaps
forty, waved back a vigorous salutation.

"_Hombre!_" the man ejaculated, holding Jose's arm and starting down
the gangplank. "What new deviltry is the rogue up to now!"

The man and the priest addressed as Diego embraced warmly.

"Padre Diego Guillermo Polo, I have the extreme honor to present my
friend, the eminent Padre--" ceremoniously waving a hand toward Jose.

"Jose de Rincon," supplied the latter, bowing.

"Rincon!" murmured the priest Diego. Then, abruptly, "Of Cartagena?"

"Yes," returned Jose, with awakened interest.

"Not of Don Ignacio--?"

"My grandfather," Jose replied promptly, and with a touch of pride.

"Ha! he owned much property--many _fincas_--about here; and farther
west, in the Guamoco country, many mines, eh, Don Jorge?" exchanging a
significant look with the latter.

"But," he added, glancing at the perspiring Honda, "this old tub is
going to hang