Upon a tripod, or _tunko_, was a small pot of boiling rice and upon the red coals lay three little dried fishes such as are sold at three for two cuartos.

Her chin rested in the palm of her hand while she gazed at the weak yellow glow peculiar to the cane, which burns rapidly and leaves embers that quickly grow pale.

A sad smile lighted up her face as she recalled a funny riddle about the pot and the fire which Crispin had once propounded to her.

The boy said: "The black man sat down and the red man looked at him, a moment passed, and cock-a-doodle-doo rang forth." Sisa was still young, and it was plain that at one time she had been pretty and attractive.

Her eyes, which, like her disposition, she had given to her sons, were beautiful, with long lashes and a deep look.