e time our horses were brought down to drink; but
they had to be watered out of the calabashes or drinking-cups of the
Indians.

At two o'clock, we returned to the casa real. We had "done up" another
ruined city, and were ready to set out again; but we had one serious
impediment in the way. I have mentioned that on our arrival at this
place we gave Albino a dollar, but I omitted to say that it was our
last. On setting out on this journey, we had reduced our personal
luggage to hammocks and petaquillas, the latter being oblong straw
baskets without fastenings, unsafe to carry money in, and silver, the
only available coin, was too heavy to carry about the person. At
Sabachshe we discovered that our expenses had overrun our estimates,
and sent Albino back to Nohcacab with the keys of our money trunk, and
directions to follow us in all haste to this place. The time calculated
for his overtaking us had passed, and he did not come. We should have
thought nothing of a little delay but for our pressing necessities.
Some accident might have happened to him, or the temptation might have
been too strong. Our affairs were approaching a crisis, and the
barbarism of the people of the country in matters of finance was
hurrying it on. If we wanted a fowl, food for horses, or an Indian to
work, the money must be ready at the moment. Throughout our journey it
was the same; every order for the purchase of an article was null
unless the money accompanied it. Brought up under the wings of credit,
this system was always odious to us. We could attempt nothing on a
liberal and enlightened scale, were always obliged to calculate our
means, and could incur no expense unless we had the money to defray it
on the spot. This, of course, trammelled enterprise, and now, on a mere
miscalculation, we were brought suddenly to a stand still. On counting
the scattering medios of private stock, we found that we had enough to
pay for transporting our luggage to the village of Xul, but if we
tarried over the night and Albino did not come, both ourselves and our
horses must go without rations in the morning, and then we should have
no means of getting away our luggage. Which of the two to choose?
Whether it was better to meet our fate at the rancho, or go on to the
village and trust to fortune?

In this delicate posture of affairs, we sat down to one of Bernaldo's
best miscellaneous preparations of fowls, rice, and frigoles, and
finished the last meal that w