To pass away the time, we took horses and rode down to the beach,
and there found three or four Italian sailors, mounted, and riding
up and down, on the hard sand, at a furious rate. We joined them,
and found it fine sport. The beach gave us a stretch of a mile or
more, and the horses flew over the smooth, hard sand, apparently
invigorated and excited by the salt sea-breeze, and by the continual
roar and dashing of the breakers. From the beach we returned to the
town, and finding that the funeral procession had moved, rode on and
overtook it, about half-way to the mission. Here was as peculiar a
sight as we had seen before in the house; the one looking as much like
a funeral procession as the other did like a house of mourning. The
little coffin was borne by eight girls, who were continually
relieved by others, running forward from the procession and taking
their places. Behind it came a straggling company of girls, dressed as
before, in white and flowers, and including, I should suppose by their
numbers, nearly all the girls between five and fifteen in the place.
They played along on the way, frequently stopping and running all
together to talk to some one, or to pick up a flower, and then running
on again to overtake the coffin.
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