The other Zupangos were sound asleep, two of them snoring loudly. Adam and Juanita tiptoed past them and eased back the wooden bar of the outer door. Once it creaked loudly; the old woman gave a grunt and turned over, but went off again. Two minutes later they were out in the cold, crisp air.
Juanita led him to the wine press shed, turned up the lantern and got out from behind a cask the things she had procured for him. The clothes consisted of a pair of blue dungarees that were just broad enough to take his shoulders but much too short for him, a checked cotton shirt and a loose fitting leather jacket with tarnished brass buttons. Quickly he changed into them then, pointing to his own clothes on the floor, he said
`I want you to burn these. And tonight. It is important that the police should not find them.'
She nodded. `It shall be done, Lord. Here are the other things.'
He saw then that she had got for him the type of pack used for countless generations by the Indians, which is worn on the back and supported by a strap across the forehead. He feared that at first he would find it awkward; but it had the advantage that, when wearing it, he would have to lean his head forward, which would make him appear less tall, and it was in keeping with his new role.
When he had tucked his torch, her scissors and the shaving kit into a corner of the pack, she helped him adjust the single strap, then handed him a battered hat. It was no high crowned, broad brimmed sombrero, such as one frequently sees in pictures of Mexicans, but a more ordinary affair, now in much more general use: a narrow brimmed, oval crowned straw. Putting it on his close cropped head; he took both her hands, kissed her on the cheek and said:
'Juanita, you have proved a true friend. I thank you from my heart for all you have done for me.'
Her dark eyes shining like stars, she sank to her knees, still looking up at him. As he turned away, she murmured, `May heaven defend you, Lord. I pray that you may come to me again in my dreams.'
With a last smile to her, he went out into the night.
At a rough estimate he believed the coast to be a hundred and twenty miles away; but that was as the crow flies. Owing to the mountainous nature of the country, the roads made many detours; so he expected to have to cover at least half as much ground again and perhaps twice that distance.
The track from the farm wound down the lower slope of the volcano. At about four in the morning he entered the village of Xalcatlan. The moon was still well up and by its light he could see that the place was the usual huddle of, mostly, one storey houses with patched roofs and plaster peeling from the walls, grouped round a small, dusty square. The village was utterly silent, the windows of the houses shuttered, the stalls in the square now empty of fruit and vegetables. There was only one road leading out of the village, and he knew that it must lead to the local town of Apizaco.
Juanita had said that it was about nine miles from the farm; so, even walking at a good pace, he could not expect to reach it before half past five. By that time people would be stirring, so it would be dangerous to enter it. In any case, he had decided to make his way round it for, although he had rid himself of his wavy hair and beard, his unusual size might still draw attention to him. Once the hue and cry was up the odds were that, had he passed a policeman, the man would remember having seen him and his only certainty of remaining uncaptured lay in keeping out of sight of everyone for several days to come.
When the first few straggling houses of Apizaco came in view, he left the road and took a turning that led east. The moon had set, but the grey light proceding the early spring dawn was now sufficient for him to see his way without using his torch. To his annoyance, the road curved south towards the town, so he had to leave it for a track. The track led only to a farm. As he approached, the sound of an empty pail set down with a clatter on the stone paved yard warned him that the inmates were already up and tending their cattle. Taking to a field, he skirted round the farm and soon found himself in open country.
By then a rosy glow crowning the distant range of mountains to the east told him that dawn was near and gave him his direction. He walked on towards it for another hour, keeping, as far as he could, to paths between patches of cultivation. During this time there were always one or more dwellings in sight, but no wooded areas, and the peasants were already coming out to work in their fields. As he looked about for a suitable place to go to earth during the day, he became increasingly anxious at not being able to find one.
At length the fields gave way to an area of coarse grass and, ahead of him, he saw a mound about fifty feet in height. As he came nearer, he recognised it as one of the smaller pyramids, still covered with the earth of centuries that are scattered about the country. When he reached it, he found that near the base at one
side there were some broken stone steps leading down to a low arch. Getting out his torch, he went down the steps and flashed it round. The arch gave on to a passage blocked about ten feet from the entrance by earth and fallen debris. It was quite roomy enough to serve as a hideout, but was by no means a pleasant one, as the floor showed that it had been used many times by the field workers to defecate. None of these unpleasant souvenirs left by human visitors appeared to be recent, which led Adam to hope that he would remain undisturbed there; and, although the place stank of urine, he decided that `beggars cannot be choosers'.
Taking off his pack, he sat down with his back against the wall and looked through the items that Juanita had secured for him. There was a good blanket, a large piece of lean bacon, a knife to cut it with, some two dozen tortillas, a slab of guava jelly, a great hunk of coarse cocoa chocolate, two packs of cigarettes and a box of matches. From what must have been the very limited supplies available at the farm he thought she could not have done better. The bacon, being smoked, would not go bad, the guava jelly would make the cold tortillas much more palatable, and few things were more sustaining than chocolate. Again he blessed his luck that he should have come upon such a well disposed and intelligent girl.
As he had fed so well the previous day, and knowing it to be important to conserve his stores, he decided that he would not eat until evening; but he had a cigarette while he calculated roughly the time it should take him to reach the coast. With his long legs he could easily cover four miles an hour, so if he walked for eight hours a day he should do it in less than a week. But it might not prove so straightforward as that. There would be times when he had to leave the road, and he meant to move only at night. If there was no moon, having to cross open country in the dark would greatly reduce his speed. Again, if clouds prevented him from using the stars as a guide, he might go for several hours in a wrong direction before he discovered his mistake. Anyhow, he would be certain to lose his way now and then and have difficulty in finding it again, for he had no map and the strange names of towns on signposts would convey nothing to him.
Although it was less than five hours since he had slept, his past two days had been extraordinarily onerous ones and he soon began to feel drowsy. Stretching himself out, he used his pack for a pillow and soon dropped off. Well before midday he awoke and had to face the long afternoon with nothing to occupy him. The minutes seemed to crawl by, but at last the sun set and he was able to leave his smelly refuge.
After trudging along paths and across fields for over two hours, he came upon a road and, taking his direction from where he knew the mountains lay, turned left along it. But now he had to use greater caution, as he was anxious not to get caught in the headlights of a car. Fortunately, there was little traffic; but each time a vehicle approached he had to get off the road quickly, crouch down with his back to it in order to remain unnoticed and keep still until the car or lorry had passed.