motley Multitude.--Village of Becal.--The
Cura.--Breakfast.--Ruins.--Arrival at Jalacho.--A great Fair.--Fete
of Santiago.--Miracles.--Figure of St. James.--Bull-fight and
Bull-fighters.--Horse-market.--Scenes in the
Plaza.--Gambling.---Primitive Circulating Medium.--A Memorial of
Home.--A Ball.--Search for Ruins.--Hacienda of Sijoh.--Mounds of
Ruins.--Remarkable Stones.--A long Edifice.--Hacienda of
Tankuche.--More Ruins.--A plastered Wall covered with
Paintings.--Annoyance from Garrapatas.--Return to the
Village.--Ball.--Fireworks.--Condition of the Indians.

Having made such advances in the clearing that Mr. Catherwood had
abundance of occupation, on Thursday, the 18th of November, I set out,
under the guidance of the mayoral, on an excursion to meet Don Simon
Peon at the fair of Jalacho, and visit some ruins on another hacienda
of his in that neighbourhood. We started at half past six, our course
being west by north. At ten minutes past seven we crossed a _serrania_
or range of hills, about a hundred and fifty feet high, and came down
upon an extensive savanna of low, flat land, a mere cane-brake. The
road was the worst I had found in the country, being simply a wet and
very muddy path for mules and horses to the fair. My horse sunk up to
his saddle-girths, and it was with great exertion that he dragged
himself through. Every moment I had fear of his rolling over in the
mud, and in some places I was strongly reminded of the _malos pasos_ in
Central America. Occasionally the branches were barely high enough to
allow mules to pass, and then I was obliged to dismount, and trudge
through the mud on foot. At eight o'clock we came to an open savanna,
and saw a high mound with ruins on the top, bearing south, about a mile
distant. It was called, as the mayoral said, Senuisacal. I was strongly
tempted to turn aside and examine it, but, on account of the thickness
of the cane-brake and the mud, it would have been impossible to reach
it, and the mayoral said that it was entirely in ruins.

In half an hour we came into a clear and open country, and at ten we
entered the camino real for Jalacho, a broad and open road, passable
for calesas. Up to this time we had not seen a single habitation or met
a human being, and now the road was literally thronged with people
moving on to the fair, with whose clean garments my mud-stained clothes
contrasted very unfavourably. There were Indians, Mestizoes, and white
people on horseback,