There he stayed at the inn on the Medina and listened all night to the tumbling roar of the grist-mill wheel that turned over the green alluvial water of the Medina River. The next morning he shaved closely and put on his black reading clothes and then went on into San Antonio.He crossed over Alazan Creek at the ford where he was happy to see Mexican women wading in the water, baskets of wet clothes on their heads, calling and chatting to one another and wringing out their long black hair in the warm April air. They called out saucy things to him in Spanish which they did not think he understood and then cried out in surprise when he answered them back in the same language. They then laughed and splashed water at him and he was very glad to be back in San Antonio.He was happy also to hear the bells of San Fernando ringing out the hour, and a man whose hair was as white as his own stood up in his buggy and called out, Jefferson Kidd! Come and see me sir! He went down a narrow street of stone houses, hoarding the cool of their courtyards, so that the streets in the center of town were all one long white wall in the style of houses in southern towns since the times of the Romans.
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