“It’s called mole,” Chow exclaimed proudly. “Somethin” special-made out o’
chocolate an’ spices. The womenfolk showed me how to whip it up. You jest taste it!”
The Americans were a bit dubious about the idea of combining chocolate sauce with chicken. But after sampling a few bites of the dish, they fell to avidly.
“Sounds crazy,” Jack Murray remarked between bites, “but it tastes wonderful!”
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The chicken was accompanied by side dishes of tortillas, baked native squash, called chayote, and a sort of raw turnip, jicama. For dessert, the feast was topped off with avocados and oranges.
“Chow, old boy, you’ve done us proud!” Bud said as he sat back and loosened his belt.
“One of the best meals I ever ate,” Tom agreed, and Chow grinned.
When the remains of the feast had been cleared away, Ahau Quetzal clapped his hands to call for music. A dozen of the Mayan men brought out drums, gourd rattles, wooden flutes, and other instruments. Then a group of native dancers came forward, balancing bottles, crocks, and jugs on top of their flat, broad heads.
“What in tarnation is all the crockery for?” Chow wondered. The others from Shopton were equally mystified.
The answer soon became evident. As the musicians played a gay Spanish tune, the dancers whirled and stepped without disturbing the articles on their heads. Evidently it was a mark of skill to keep the objects balanced.
“Hey, they’re good!” Dick exclaimed, clapping his hands in time to the music.
By now, it was deep twilight and the blazing fire that had been built to celebrate the feast made the scene even more colorful. Chow watched in grinning admiration. Finally some of the dancers beckoned him to join in.