Will watched a young rider come alongside the carreta carrying the young women. One of them took a flower from her hair and handed it to him. He raced a hundred yards ahead and tossed it down on the trail before returning to the cart.

Then the rider spurred his horse into a full gallop and raced back toward the flower. As he neared it, he shifted his body out of the saddle, hanging far off to the left while the horse kept straight on the trail. The young Californio’s left foot stayed in the stirrup, the rest of his body almost scraped the ground as he snatched up the flower. Waving it triumphantly overhead, he straightened up in the saddle. Galloping back, shouting loudly to the others, he returned the flower, hardly the worse for its travels, to the young woman who showed her appreciation by splashing him with a vial filled with a green liquid. Then she cracked a cascarone filled with bits of golden paper on his shoulder. The other girls in the cart pressed close around her, laughing, and broke a few more hollow eggs of their own on the rider while the other horsemen boisterously approved. The horseman took a vial of his own from a pocket and splashed the dark-haired girl’s blouse with red liquid. At that, the whole group broke into cheers and laughter.

Will was about to speak when the young horseman, sporting green dye on his face and jacket, with bits of paper glittering golden on his shoulders, galloped up and saluted him. In breathless Spanish, he challenged Will to duplicate his feat.

“I see it is an old nag you ride,” the young Californio mocked him, “so you will not ride as fast as I do. Still, we want to see what a Yankee caballero can do.”

Will was speechless. Looking into the leering face of the rider, he realized he was trapped. Grinning bravely, he returned the salute then rode toward the carreta. As he neared, he studied the young women pressing against the rail, calling out to him to be chosen. He picked out a tall, thin girl, perhaps no more than eighteen, who wore a white fitted tunic covering a long black flannel skirt with a plain black shawl draped across her shoulders. She held back from the other girls, averting her eyes, making no effort to attract him, but her pretty face and well-defined features caught his attention. Her hair was black to match her eyes, sparkling with red highlights in the bright sun. It was pulled back into a tight braid and tied with a ribbon.

Coming alongside the cart, he smiled, tipped his hat, and extended his hand to her. Laughing, another girl pushed forward and smashed a cascarone in his hand. The shell crumbled, spilling more of the dark green dye. It dripped through his fingers onto his shirt and pants. The other girls joined the gleeful laughter. The tall girl seemed embarrassed. Untying a black scarf from around her neck, she handed it to him, showing just the briefest of smiles before looking away, and causing the other girls to tease her and point at him.

As he rode up the trail, he searched for any place to drop the scarf, any place that might give him a chance of picking it up from the saddle. He knew it was useless. He would be taunted for his failure, but resigning himself, he let the scarf flutter from his hand to the ground and rode back to the cart where the girls were cheering him. The tall girl smiled self-consciously.

He urged the old horse into the best gallop it could manage. He sped up the trail, closing fast on the black scarf lying on the ground. Leaning far out over his saddle, he reached down with his right hand. The horse’s front hooves kicked up dust, blurring his sight and catching in his throat. The pounding hooves echoed in his ears. The rocky ground felt dangerously close. Locked in the small iron stirrup, his foot reminded him of what would happen if he lost his balance. He reached as far down as he could, extending his arm toward the scarf. He raced past it, his hand at least six inches too high.

With the distant jeers ringing in his ears, he reined the horse to a stop, dismounted and walked back the twenty yards to pick up the scarf. As he remounted, the other riders charged up to him. He braced for their insults. To his surprise, they rode in circles cheering him. Flanking him on either side, they accompanied him back to the carreta. He gave the tall girl a sheepish smile as he handed her the scarf. She took it from him and glanced away, but then she looked back, and they held each other in their gaze for several moments. Finally, her face broke into a happy smile, showing her full lips and white teeth. Emboldened by her friends, her hand reached out, and he felt another cascarone crack softly on his shoulder, wafting a sweet lavender fragrance around him. The other girls seized the opportunity. Several more vials of red and white and green dyes were splashed on him. Breaking into a laugh, he touched his hat to the tall girl.