ere doing, we learned that
they were hunting honey-ants, and in a moment our whole party was
engaged in the same operation. These ants were found some inches below
the surface, either singly, or in roundish holes containing half a dozen
or more; the abdomen was swelled until it was as round as a pea and as
large as a fair-sized currant, and was filled with honey. To get the
sweet liquid, one takes the insect by the head or forward body and
pressing the honey bag sucks out the contents. It is sweet and rich,
with a little twang, as if fermented, and people in the district call
it honey-wine. Three quarters of an hour brought us to San Francisco,
though we had to go down and up two large _barrancas_ before we reached
the town. It was almost sunset when we arrived. Sitting down before
the town-house, we sent for the _agente_. Soon after our arrival the
church-bell rang furiously, and the din and clangor was kept up a long
time. While waiting for the official, supper was prepared, though we had
had some difficulty in arranging for it, and were in doubt as to where
we were to spend the night. Before supper was ready, a motley crowd
poured into the room in which we sat. One large fellow carried a great
sword strapped at his side, another bore a short sword, another a knife,
another a large and ancient gun. Probably there were other weapons not
in sight. This group of indians was the _agente_ and his _guardia_. We
were objects of suspicion, and much argument, and an abundant supply of
_huitzatl_--strong drink--were necessary, before we secured permission
to spend the night at the house where we were to have supper. No sooner
had this company withdrawn and supper been eaten, than we prepared for
bed. One wooden bed, with a mat of rushes, served for Senor Quechol and
myself. A second mat, laid on the floor, formed the bed for our four
companions. In the morning, we took a walk to Akxotla, where we wished
to see an ancient painting. Here we encountered greater suspicion than
before, and, after wasting the greater part of the day, accomplished
nothing. It is true an indian made a _camalpa_ for us. This is a
stringed musical instrument; though the name is Aztec, it is unlikely
that it was known before the coming of the Spaniards. Quechol says the
word means mouth-harp, coming from the Aztec _cam_, mouth, and the
Spanish _harpa,_ harp. We returned to San Francisco for our dinner, and
at four o'clock again started on our journey.

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