as it simply promises; having told them that I would begin
early in the morning whether I were well or ill, and that I wanted no
delay, we found our thirty-five men waiting, at seven o'clock.

[Illustration: THE LAND OF THE MIXES]

At Juquila the system of public crying from the _plaza_ is fully
developed. The town lies in a valley, and most of the houses are on
slopes surrounding the little plain or terrace upon which the _plaza_ is
situated on which the government house is built. When aid was needed
by the town authorities, whether _zacate_ for our horses, food for
ourselves, objects for inspection, or what not, one of the officers,
whose business it seemed to be, stepped out upon the _plaza_, and,
raising his voice would cry out what was needed by the authorities.
Whoever had the things desired, coming out before their houses, would
cry back the amount, description and variety of the articles they could
supply. This we found to be the constant practice.

Notwithstanding the clearness of the preceding day, our day of working
was cold, damp, and foggy. The sea of cloud and cataract of mists must
have been in full operation. Where we were, a heavy wind was blowing
and, before night, rain falling. We had not thought of the possibility
of heavy storms or damaged roads at this time of the year, but, before
night came, the people of the village expressed surprise that we should
talk of leaving the next morning. They assured us that at Quezaltepec
and Ixcuintepec it was surely raining heavily, and that the roads would
be wet, slippery and impassable. Long before we went to bed, a gale was
blowing and we felt doubts regarding further progress. In the morning
it was still wet and chilly; all told of terrible roads and risks in
proceeding; we delayed. Finally, we decided to press on at least to
Ocotopec. We had tried to send the _mozos_ forward with our baggage, but
it was plain they would not move until we did. Finally, somewhat after
nine, we started. It was still heavy and chilly; we found the road much
better than we feared; at some points it was slippery, but not for
long distances. Until we were on the final descent to Ocotopec we were
sheltered from the cold wind. To be sure, here and there, where the road
passed little funnel openings along the crest, we felt fully the cold
wind loaded with mist.

We noticed, what on the other trip escaped my attention, the profound
difference in vegetation between the two sides of t