ng fits, the Indian looked directly in his face, and held up the
arm with a fixedness of attitude that would have served as a model for
a sculptor. I do not believe that, for a single moment, the position of
the arm varied a hair's breadth.

Doctor Cabot dressed the wound, and the Indian was sent away, with an
even chance, as the doctor considered, for life or death. The next that
we heard of him, however, he was at work in the fields; certainly, but
for the accidental visit of Doctor Cabot, he would have been in his
grave.

After this there were some delicate cases among the women of the
hacienda; and these multifarious occupations consumed the whole of the
morning, which we had intended to devote to Mr. Camerden and the ruins.
It was a cold and cheerless day; the Norther was increasing in force,
and he saw malaria and sickness all around him. In the afternoon he
left us to return to New-York by the same vessel which had brought us
out. Unfortunately, he carried away with him the seeds of a dangerous
illness, from which he did not recover in many months.

The next day Don Simon left us, and we were again alone. Sickness was
increasing on the hacienda, and two days afterward we received notice
that Doctor Cabot's leg patient was ill with fever, and also that a
woman had died that day of the same disease, and was to be buried the
next morning. We ordered horses to be sent up to the ruins, and early
in the morning Dr. Cabot and myself rode to the hacienda, he to visit
his patient, and I to attend the funeral, in the expectation that such
an event, on a retired hacienda, without any priest or religious
ceremonies, would disclose some usage or custom illustrative of the
ancient Indian character. Leaving my horse in the cattle-yard, in
company with the mayoral I walked to the campo santo. This was a
clearing in the woods at a short distance from the house, square, and
enclosed by a rude stone fence. It had been consecrated with the
ceremonies of the church, and was intended as a burial-place for all
who died on the estate; a rude place, befitting the rude and simple
people for whom it was designed. When we entered we saw a grave half
dug, which had been abandoned on account of the stones, and some
Indians were then occupied in digging another.

Only one part of the cemetery had been used as a burial-place, and this
was indicated by little wooden crosses, one planted at the head of each
grave. In this part of the cemetery