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nity to fall at a spot where the two…foot…wide path had been washed away by rain； in such a fashion that his front legs were on one side of the gap and his hind part on the other。 How I escaped I am sure I do not know。 Mr。 Stockdale used to gallop along these paths； although once he and his horse fell over the edge and were saved only by being caught in the flat top of a thick thorn tree。 He laughed at my dislike of them。 A while afterwards I heard that he had fallen from such a path and been dashed to pieces。 He was a young Englishman of the best sort； one of that gallant breed whose bones whiten every quarter of the earth。
The traveller on these mountain paths in Mexico will notice many wooden crosses set up against the rocky walls。 Each of these shows that here a death has occurred； sometimes by accident； more frequently by murder； which amongst these half…savage and half…bred people — the product； many of them； of intercourse between the Spaniard and the Indian — is or used to be of mon occurrence。 （Now I observe that under the name of Revolution the Mexicans are butchering each other wholesale in the hope of securing the plunder of the State； which has grown wealthy under the rule of the fugitive Diaz。）
I remember that we reached Pinal on a Saturday； the night on which the peons get drunk on mescal and aqua ardiente and fight over gambling and women。 On the Sunday morning I walked down the street of the village； where I saw two men lying dead with blankets thrown over them。 A third； literally hacked to pieces by machetes； was seated in a collapsed condition in a doorway； while the village barber tried to sew up his hideous wounds。 I do not know what became of him。 Such was the Mexico of those days。
One of the towns that we visited on this journey was a place named Queretaro； with a plaza where the band played； for all the Mexicans are musical； and the young people walked about in the evening。 I felt so ill there that I thought I must be going to die； but a travelling American doctor whom I met in the place； and who； good fellow that he was； kindly examined me； told me that I was suffering from nothing except shock to the nerves。
At Queretaro I was taken up a hill and shown the wall against which the unhappy Emperor Maximilian had been butchered some five…and…twenty years before。 In this town； as in most others in Mexico； the church bells seemed to ring continually； as I was informed； to frighten away the devils； of whom there must in truth be many in that land — if devils exist anywhere outside the human heart。
We made some part of the return journey from Pinal in a kind of diligence that we hired。 It was reported that brigands were active in the country through which we had to pass； and therefore we were not best pleased when a fat Mexican； who was convoying a huge mass of pure silver from some mine； insisted upon joining our party。 When asked why he was so determined upon the point； he answered： “Oh！ I have silver； in front hide brigands。 You are Englishmen； and the English will always fight！” However； we saw nothing of these brigands； perhaps because of the warlike reputation of our race。
On our return to Mexico City I undertook a longer journey to the State of Chiapas； then rarely visited by Europeans； where Jebb was interested in a certain mine； in which； to my sorrow； I had shares。 The original arrangement was that we were to have travelled to the marvellous ruins of Palenque； which were built by some preAztec race。 But this was given up for the same reason that we gave up digging for Montezuma’s treasure。 In place of it it was settled that Jebb and I should make the journey to the Chiapas mine and； returning thence at a certain date； meet our wives on the New York steamer off the port of Frontera； where she called； and thence proceed with them to the States and England。 Of course it miscarried； as most things do； or did； in Mexico； as I shall tell presently。 Indeed； as I can see now； the whole expedition was of a somewhat crack…brained order； but at the time I cared little what I did。
Jebb and I proceeded from Mexico to Vera Cruz by the wonderful railway which winds from the 7000 feet high tableland； past the glorious mountain of Orizaba to the coast。 Then the train only ran in the day…time in charge of an armed guard； for fear of brigands who could be relied upon to throw it off the line at night。 I recall one town or village which we passed where there were； I think； thirteen churches and twelve houses； or so I was told。 The churches were said to have all been built by successful brigand captains when they retired from business in the neighbourhood in order to expiate their not inconsiderable crimes。 By the way； I think it was on my journey to Pinal that I passed through a place of some size where we saw only a few sullen old men and some women and children。 The rest of the male population had recently been killed out by the rurales； or mounted guards； I forget for what cause。 Indeed all my recollections of Mexico are somewhat fragmentary； for at the time I made no notes of my experiences； and after a lapse of over twenty years the memory is apt to retain only such occurrences and scenes as struck it with peculiar force。
At Vera Cruz； a beautiful but； at that time； unwholesome town； for yellow fever was still prevalent there and the vultures were the chief safeguards of the public health （they sat on the scavengers’ carts as these went their rounds）； we caught the steamer which was to land us at Frontera。 I had left Mexico City with the worst cold I ever experienced； contracted originally through my folly in opening the window of a stifling Pullman car； not knowing that we were to run over high mountains in the night。 It was so bad that I had to pull my eyelids open in the morning； and even my ears were stopped up； nor could I shake it off in the piercing atmosphere of the central Mexican tableland。 The mild and beautiful climate of the coast； however； acted on me like magic； and before I had been twenty hours at sea I was almost well again。
On the day after leaving Vera Cruz we reached Frontera； at the mouth of a great stream that I think was named the Tobasco River。 Frontera was a village with a