omonfort, and
Aquaguisotla, and slept at Mazatlan, and the next day arrived at the
famous city of Chilpanzingo, or City of the Bravos, the centre and
focus of the insurrection in the southern provinces. Here, in the
public square or plaza, in front of a church built by Cortez, there was
a grand bull-fight, or rather ox-fight, in which great efforts were
made to infuse some life into a dozen stupid cattle. These efforts were
attended with very indifferent success. A deep _barranca_ extends
to the Mescala, the largest river in Southern Mexico, across which we
passed on a raft of gourds, propelled by two naked Indians, who swam
across, each holding in his right hand a corner of the raft.

AN ILL-CLAD JUDGE.

The next night, after dark, I arrived at a little village, and turned
into an open caravansary. The old man of the establishment was very
kind, and offered me a mat to lie on, but he had no corn for my horse.
After making some inquiries that were a little unpleasant for a man who
was traveling without a passport to answer, he said he would procure
for me some corn from the alcalde. This village magistrate, who, in the
absence of the "Judge of First Instance," is _ex officio_ a judge,
was an enormous negro, over six feet in height, whose dignity was not
certainly dependent upon his official robes, for a single napkin
constituted his whole apparel. He sat upon an ox-skin, which did duty
for the wool-sack--the very personification of the majesty of the law,
with curled wig, and hide as black as the gown of the Lord Chief
Justice, with the advantage that both were natural. This was the second
negro I had yet seen in the country. The other held a commission as
captain in the army, and was in the escort of General Garay.

I had a hard day's ride to reach the city of Iguala in time to witness
the celebration of the independence, which was proclaimed here in 1821.
The celebration, for the most part, consisted in eating and drinking
from booths placed around the central square of the town. As I had
little time to spare, I hurried on, and soon came to the Puente de
Iztla, the carriage-road, that is finished thus far southward from the
city of Mexico.

I started early next morning upon my journey. During the greater part
of the day the road led through a continuous corn-field, and toward
evening we came to the pretty Indian village of Alpayuca, so neat and
well-ordered that it might have passed for one of the missionary Ind