lutions of
the country. "And where are you from, Senor?" asked the old lady, as she
chucked a hot tortilla towards me. "From Mexico, and the peace is
declared!" _Valgame Dios!_--is it possible! exclaimed they all in a
breath; "and will those horrible Yankees ever leave the city?" _Si! si!_
"But, Senor, we are wondering who you are?" Oh! I'm one of those
demonios Yankees! _Jesu Maria! dispense mi amigo!_ screamed the Senora.
The old gentleman offered his apologies, and we all laughed heartily;
but still I remarked the younger shoots of the family observing me with
furtive glances, as if I might have been a wild animal lately uncaged.
My hunger was soon appeased, and fresh horses carried us to Puente
Grande. The river was much swollen and flowing over its rocky bed with
turgid violence. Before crossing, I turned up the stream, selected a
clean grassy bank, threw off my clothes, and plunged in. It afforded me
great relief, in its icy coldness, for my leg was still painful with the
hoof-prints of the vicious brute near San Juan del Rio. My ablutions
seemed to create much surprise and amusement to a group of brown damsels
washing on a green islet near by, who, on swimming towards them, changed
their tune and retreated to the willowy thickets. My guide, Jose Maria,
was vastly horrified and shocked, not so much at the conduct of the
girls, as my own regardlessness of life and health, in having the
temerity to lave in cold water. _Se hace dano_--be the death of you--he
continually repeated, and related many direful incidents where persons
had contracted diseases thereby, and had lived but a very few minutes
after coming out; perceiving that I was not affected to that extent, he
at last discovered me to be a _gringo_, who could endure anything. We
again mounted--changed horses in the town--were exempted from paying the
rial toll at the bridge, on account of being an _extraordinario del
Gobierno_--ate a melon--purchased a new whip with a lash like the thongs
of a knout, and thence proceeded towards Guadalajara. Half way, we
overtook two ladies with servants, mounted on fast mules, and we
accompanied them to the city. As we rode through the suburban town of
San Juan--where is the residence of the Bishop of Jalisco, with many
fine houses and beautiful gardens, the rain began to fall, and by the
time we reached the long Paseo, it was descending in cataracts, with
thunder and lightning resounding and flashing around us. I halted for
s