all in the evening;
but we could neither push our horses through, nor procure a calesa,
though the road was good for wheel carriages.

Early in the evening we took to our hammocks, but had hardly lain down,
when one of the guarda came to inform us that a caricoche had just
arrived from Izamal, and wanted a return freight. We had it brought
down to the casa real, and at two o'clock, by a bright moonlight, we
started, leaving Dimas to follow with the horses. The caricoche was
drawn by three mules, and had in it a bed, on which we reclined at full
length.

At nine o'clock we entered the suburbs of Izamal, but fifteen leagues
from Merida. The streets had lamps, and were designated by visible
objects, as at Merida. Peeping through the curtain, we rode into the
plaza, which was alive with people, dressed in clean clothes for the
fiesta. There was an unusual proportion of gentlemen with black hats
and canes, and some with military coats, bright and flashing to such a
degree that we congratulated ourselves upon not having made our entry
on horseback. We had on our shooting-clothes, with the mud stains from
Punta Arenas, and by computation our beards were of twenty-eight days'
growth. In the centre of the plaza our driver stopped for instructions.
We directed him to the casa real, and as we were moving on, our English
saddles, strapped on behind, caught the eye of Albino, who conducted us
to the house in which Mr. Catherwood was already domiciled. This house
was a short distance from the plaza, built of stone, and about sixty
feet front, divided into two large salas, with rooms adjoining, a broad
corridor behind, and a large yard for horses, for all which the rent
was three reales per day, being, as we were advised, but two more than
anybody else would have been obliged to pay. In a few moments we had
done all that our scanty wardrobe would allow, and were again in the
street.

It was the last day of the fiesta of Santa Cruz. By the grace of a
beneficent government, the village of Izamal had been erected into a
city, and the jubilee on account of this accession of political dignity
was added to the festival of the holy cross. The bull-fights were over,
but the bull-ring, fancifully ornamented, still remained in the centre
of the plaza, and two bulls stood under one of the corridors, pierced
with wounds and streaming with blood, as memorials of the fight. Amid a
crowd of Indians were parties of vecinos, or white people, gay an