iver, and turned in a northeasterly
direction to Batopilas. After five days' pleasant sojourn at
Mr. Shepherd's hospitable home there, I again ascended the sierra,
and, after visiting the Indians of Santa Ana and its neighbourhood,
arrived at Guachochic. Leaving my mules here in charge of my friend
Don Carlos Garcia, I soon started again toward the northeast on my
way back to the United States, passing through the Indian ranches,
and finally arriving at Carichic (in Tarahumare Garichi, "where
there are houses," probably ancient) on July 31st. At less than an
hour's distance from the place I was overtaken by a thunder-storm,
the heaviest my Mexicans or I had ever experienced. In a few minutes
the almost level fields were flooded as far as the eye could see,
and the road we followed began to run with brown water. As we advanced
through the mud, the small arroyos were rapidly filling. The rain did
not abate, and the force of the currents steadily increased. When
only three hundred yards from the town we found ourselves at the
edge of a muddy stream, running so rapidly that it tore pieces from
the bank, and carried small pines and branches of trees with it. As
it was impossible to cross it, we had to wait, however impatiently,
for the rain to subside sufficiently to allow us to wade through the
water. And all the next day was spent in drying my things.

One year later I was again in Carichic, and from there I made my way
to Guachochic. One night I had to spend in the house of a civilised
Indian, as it rained too heavily for us to remain outdoors. The
house was made of stone and mud, without windows, and the door had
to be closed on account of the dogs. There was no way for air to get
in except through the chimney, over the fireplace. There were nine
people and one baby in the small room. Strange to say, I slept well.

My mules and outfit had been well taken care of at Guachochic, and
I now arranged with Don Carlos Garcia to take most of my belongings
to Guanazevi, a mining town in the neighbouring State of Durango,
while with a few of the best mules I crossed Barranca de San Carlos
near Guachochic, and pursued my way through regions inhabited by
Tarahumares and Tepehuanes. A stammering Tarahumare was observed,
the only Indian with this defect that has come to my notice.

The road I followed to Guanazevi from Guadalupe y Calvo leads through
a part of the Sierra Madre which is from nine to ten thousand feet
high and uninha