charging an undue price. As a matter of fact, they sell corn
all the year round, whether it be scarce or plentiful, at the same
price, though the Mexicans charge them very different prices. The
almighty dollar has no devotees among these Indians. They have no
need of aught that money can buy, and are swayed by persuasion and
kind and just treatment more than by gold. If they have a few coins,
they place them in a jar and bury them in some remote cave, taking from
the horde only a little when they have to buy some necessity of life.

Among the pagans in Pino Gordo I met the finest specimen of the
Tarahumare tribe, a shaman, called Juan Ignacio. Although he had
never been as far as Guadalupe y Calvo, and only twice in his life
to Babori-game, and had thus spent all his life in the mountains
among his own people, he showed a courtesy and tact that would have
graced a gentleman. He took splendid care, not only of myself, but
of my men and animals as well, giving us plenty to eat, sending his
man to chop wood for us, etc. He was possessed of the nicest temper,
and was truthful, a rare quality among Tarahumares, as well as square
in his dealings. His uprightness and urbanity commanded respect even
from the lenguarazes, and they did not rob him as much as the other
Indians of the district; consequently he was quite well-to-do.

While living among the heathen, of whom there are vet some three
thousand left, I had no fear of being robbed of any part of my
outfit. The Indians themselves would not touch anything, and there were
no strange Mexicans about. If they had come, the Tarahumares would
have immediately warned me. Everything was perfectly safe as long as
I had an honest interpreter. The Tarahumare in his native condition
is many times better off, morally, mentally, and economically, than
his civilised brother; but the white man will not let him alone as
long as he has anything worth taking away. Only those who by dear
experience have learned to be cautious are able to maintain themselves
independently; but such cases are becoming more and more rare.

It is the same old story over again, in America, as in Africa, and
Asia, and everywhere. The simpleminded native is made the victim of
the progressive white, who, by fair means or foul, deprives him of his
country. Luckily, withal, the Tarahumare has not yet been wiped out
of existence. His blood is fused into the working classes of Mexico,
and he grows a Mexican. But it may