vo requires two
days. On the second day I obtained a magnificent view toward the east
and southeast. The high peak towering in the distance is Cerro Gordo,
very broad at the base and conical in shape. Patches of snow were
visible on it, and snow lay in the crevices wherever we travelled.

I descended through magnificent groves of cedar-trees to Pueblo
Nuevo, making my camp on top of a hill, from which I overlooked
the little settlement and the valley in which it nestles. As every
house is surrounded by its little garden of orange-trees, aguacates,
and guayahas, the landscape presented a mass of verdure of different
shades, the ugly, often dilapidated houses being almost lost in the
green. Lemons grow wild, and therefore there is no sale for them. Lemon
juice mixed with milk is in many parts of Mexico considered a remedy
for dysentery.

A young priest, who exercised a supreme but judicious authority in
this secluded spot, treated me with much consideration. He took an
honest pride in the development of his little village, and showed me
its sights, first the church, which he was embellishing in many ways,
and then the spring which supplied the place with water, and where
the women gathered to wash their clothes and gossip. We met many
graceful figures carrying jars on their shoulders, as in ancient times.

In order to give me an opportunity to see the people, el Senor Cura
allowed them to come and dance on his veranda. His organist was a
musical genius, and a composer of no mean ability, and on the cabinet
organ the priest had brought from Durango on mule-back he played not
only hymns, but also excellent dance music.

The climate here was delightful, the valley fragrant with the perfume
of oranges, and one felt reluctant to leave this restful camp. But
I was soon reminded that nothing in this world is perfect, as one
night a storm lifted my tent up and carried it several yards off,
leaving me to sleep as best I could till morning. The wind was so
powerful as to fell trees.

The Pueblo Nuevo was once inhabited by Aztecs. The present inhabitants,
though amiable, are indolent and lazy, and there is a saying that
in Durango not even the donkeys work. I therefore had considerable
trouble in finding a guide, the difficulty being aggravated by the
fact that nobody seemed to know anything about the country toward
Lajas, the Tepehuane village I was making for.

The sierra to the south where the Tepehuanes live is not freque