pectral
Ride--Back to the United States--An Awful Thunder-storm--Close
Quarters--Zape--Antiquities--When an "Angel" Dies--Mementos of
a Reign of Terror--The Great Tepehuane Revolution of 1616--The
Fertile Plains of Durango.

After having at last succeeded in getting men, I continued my journey
to the northwest, over the very broken country toward the town of
Morelos, inhabited almost entirely by pagan Tarahumares. There were,
of course, no roads, only Indian trails, and these in many places
were dangerous to travel with beasts of burden. The barrancas during
the month of May are all but intolerably hot, and it was a relief to
get up now and then on the strips of highland that intersperse the
country and look as fine as parks. At the higher altitudes I noticed
a great number of eagle ferns, and the Indians here plant corn in
the small patches between the ferns, merely putting the grains into
the gravelly red ground without tilling the soil at all.

Lower down were groves of big-leaved oak-trees. Their leaves are
sometimes over ten inches long and of nearly the same breadth, and
are frequently utilised by the Indians as improvised drinking-vessels.

On the summits of the barrancas, and on the slopes over which we
descended into the valleys, an astonishing number of parasites and
epiphytes was observed, especially on the pines and oaks. The round
yellow clusters growing on the branches of the oaks sometimes give the
entire forest a yellow hue. In the foot-hills I saw a kind of parasite,
whose straight, limber branches of a fresh, dark green colour hang
down in bunches over twenty feet in length. Some epiphytes, which most
of the year look to the casual observer like so many tufts of hay on
the branches, produce at certain seasons extremely pretty flowers.

In the valleys of the western inclines of the sierra there is nothing
suggestive of tropical luxuriance or romance in the landscape,
which impresses one chiefly with its towering mountains and vast
slopes. Grass is plentiful enough among the stones and rocks, and
groups of fresh green trees indicate where ground is moist and water
to be found. The country is dry, and from January to June there is
no rain. Yet an aloe, which smells like ham, is so full of juice
that it drips when a leaf is broken. This, too, is the home of the
agaves, or century-plants, and I know of nothing so astonishing as
the gigantic flower-spike that shoots upward from the comp