place; just at that instant,
we heard the other driver cry out; we stopped, and found that the
baggage-cart was overturned. This dashed all hopes. There was
unhitching, unloading, the making of a new axle, and reloading. It was
plain that we could not reach La Frontera. While the men were putting
things to rights, we strolled up the dry stream-bed to a shanty, where
Eustasio told us we could breakfast. There was a well there, with fresh
water, and the shanty, for the refreshment of travellers, consisted of
nothing but a little shelter of poles. Here, however, we found baked
_tortillas, atole_, and hard meat; the breakfast for four persons, cost
twenty-five centavos, equal to ten cents American money. Through the
day, birds were hunted and skinned, reading and writing carried on,
until at half-past-three in the afternoon we were again ready for
movement. The road was now sandy, and not dusty, the sand being produced
by the decomposition of crystalline rocks. Mounting to a high _llano_,
we shot a pair of curious birds, which looked like water-birds, but were
living in a dry place and were able to run with great speed. They were
of the size of a hen, and had a long beak, long legs and four flat
though not webbed toes. At the end of this high _llano_, we passed the
Hacienda of Agua Blanca, a property belonging to the _jefe_ of Juchitan.
From here, we descended rapidly over a poor road, coming out at nine
onto the straight road from Tapanatepec, at this point four leagues
behind us. From here on, the whole road was familiar to me. La Frontera
was just ahead, and, arriving there at 10 o'clock, we spent an hour.
Before us rose a massive mountain, the ascent of which seemed appalling.
We could see a white line of road zigzagging up its side, and well
remembered Governor Leon's pride in having constructed a cart-road
against great natural difficulties. Thirty or forty ox-teams had
gathered here, either ready to make the ascent, or resting, after having
come down the mountain. Having gotten breath and courage, we started at
about eleven. The road had suffered during the five years since I last
passed over it, but was still an excellent work of engineering. As we
mounted, zigzagging constantly, the magnificent view over the valley
widened; each new turn increased its beauty. My companions were asleep,
and had had so little rest recently, that I hated to disturb them for
the view. When, however, we were two-thirds up the slope, they