altar, before the Virgin, before and behind the heaps of
ashes under the table, and then placed it to the lips of the Virgin and
Christ, lovingly requesting them to partake. She then compelled each of
the three men priests to make the same libation. Taking the unlighted
candles, she made passes with them, over and across the figures, first
to one side and then to the other, brushing the wicks against them.
This, too, had to be done by the three assistants, after which the old
lady began to make vigorous personal use of the bottle of spirits,
though she was not at all selfish, urging, not only her acolytes, but
the _presidente_, his brother, and the chief guest, to partake. It was
too late to suggest a visit to the idols, but the curious scene we
had witnessed gave sufficient food for thought. Hurrying back to
Tlacuilotepec, we ate a last excellent dinner, which had been long
waiting, and at three left for Pahuatlan. Our host, who had been
unremitting in his attention, refused all money. At certain indian
houses which we passed upon our homeward way, we saw curious pouches
made of armadillo-shells, hanging upon posts or on the house walls. We
learned that they were used at planting-time for holding seed-corn.
When the shell is freshly removed from the animal, it is bent into the
required shape, and then packed full with wet ashes, to make it retain
its form in drying. Though it was half-past three when we left, the way
was so cool and delightful that we made the journey in three hours.

During our day at Pahuatlan, with a guide furnished by the _presidente_,
I made the journey on foot to Atla, an Aztec town, famous for the little
cotton sacks with red wool patterns, which are almost universally
carried by men throughout this district. White _cotones_, with narrow,
dark stripes and a transverse band of red decoration at each end, and
white _quichiquemils_, decorated with brilliant designs in red wool, are
also made here. Our object was not so much to see the village and the
garments, as to visit a famous witch's cave, situated in the noble
pinnacle of rock, plainly visible from Pahuatlan. The whole party
started out from Pahuatlan, but at the bottom of the great slope, I left
my companions to swim, while the guide and I, crossing a pretty
covered bridge, scarcely high enough for a man of my height wearing a
_sombrero_, went on. It was a long climb to the village, but, when
we reached there, my _mozo_ with great glee calle