While the five were engaged in this task, _rabbais_, or peddling
merchants, some Provencals and some Catalans came to sell them goods,
which they carried in coffin-shaped vehicles pushed before them. They had
wares, mostly small articles from Spain and France and the West Indies.
Colored women carrying immense cans of milk or coffee on their heads
passed by or lingered in hope of a sale. Others were calling for sale
_callas_ and cakes _tous chauds_ in monotonous, drawling voices.
Negresses, also, were trying to sell _belles chandelles_, which were dirty
candles made from green myrtle wax, the chief light then sold in the city.
The five understood the gestures of this rabble, although not their words,
and waved them away, not caring to buy anything.
"Keep cool, Jim! keep cool!" said Shif'less Sol. "Don't shoot. They don't
want to kill you; they jest want to rob you."
"Depends on what they want to rob me uv," replied Long Jim with a grin. "I
never had more'n ten shillin's at one time in my life, an' I've got a
purty strong grip on my rifle an' the clothes that I hev on."
"I think we'd better go ashore an' do a little scoutin'," said Tom Ross.
"It's always well to know the groun' on which you're goin' to act.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263