midnight
No table , chairs or furniture were seen , while the floor was of smooth , hard earth . A large , earthen bowl was nearly filled with a mixture of tomatoes , onions , olives and several kinds of fruit chopped together . This was set outside on the ground , between the two guests , who ate and were filled . Through the hot pulsing of the tropical midnight , with its myriad throbbings of animal life , came the sound of husky coughing , steadily growing more distinct , until the two men seated on the outside of the native hut , on a fallen tree , smoking and listening , identified it as the voice of the Atlamalcan tugboat , named for its owner , _ General Yozarro _ . In the vivid moonlight , a dim mass assumed form up the river , the sparks tumbling from its small smokestack helping to locate the craft , which constituted the navy of the little Tabascan republic . The puffing grew louder , the throbbing of the screw , and the rush of the foamy water from the bow struck the ear more clearly , and the outlines of the craft were marked as it rushed past , near the middle of the river , with the starred , triangular flag of Atlamalco wiggling from the staff which upreared itself like a needle from the stern . In the flood of illumination every part of the vessel was plainly seen : the wheelhouse and even the outlines of the captain at the wheel , the upper deck , the gleam of the one cannon at the front near the pile of wood , and the other at the rear , as well as the forms of several men in sombreros lounging here and there , as if playing the part of sentinels , though there was no earthly call for any service of that nature .