er.
The present substantial iron structure bids fair to last for many years.
The river, such as it is, belongs to the two nations, the boundary
agreed upon being the middle of the stream.

As we drew up at the railroad station, a lazy, listless, bareheaded,
dark-skinned crowd of men, women, and children welcomed us with staring
eyes to Mexican soil. The first idea which strikes one is that soap and
fine-tooth combs are not yet in use on the south side of the Rio Grande.

Piedras Negras boasts a spacious stone hotel, two stories in height,
which is quite American in appearance. The town is spread over so broad
an area as to have the effect of being sparsely peopled, but it is
thrifty in aspect and growing rapidly. From the manner in which scores
of men wrapped in scarlet blankets and mounted on little wiry Mexican
horses dashed hither and thither, one would think some startling event
was to transpire; but this was not the case--all was peaceful and quiet
in Piedras Negras.

The section of country through which the route first takes us is perhaps
one of the least interesting and most unproductive in the republic, with
an occasional mud hut here and there, and a few half-naked peons. What a
dreary region it is! What emptiness! How bare the serrated mountains,
how inhospitable the scenery, how brown, baked, and dusty! At the
International Bridge we are about seven hundred feet above the sea. Here
we take the International Railway, and from this point to Jaral, a
distance of two hundred and fifty miles almost due south, the cars are
constantly climbing an up-grade until the great Mexican plateau is
finally reached. It should be remembered, however, that this vast
table-land, covering nearly three quarters of the republic, is by no
means level, but is interspersed with hills, valleys, gulches, canyons,
and mountains of the loftiest character, in many places duplicating our
Rocky Mountain scenery both in height and grandeur.

A stop of a few hours was made at the quaint little adobe-built
town--cabins formed of sun-dried bricks--known by the name of Castano,
situated on the trunk line of the Mexican Central road, near the city of
Monclova, which is a considerable mining centre. This small native
village is the first typical object of the sort which greets the
traveler who enters the country from the north. It lies in a nearly
level valley between the two spurs of the Sierra Madre, where beautiful
green fields delight the e