212 MULE-HUNTING EXPEDITION. 
The swarthy Mexican miner deputed as guide 
leads the way along a narrow gulley, and down an 
incline to the mouth of another hole, the descent. 
to which has to be effected on a slanting pole, 
with notches cut in it, very like a bear-pole, 
called by the miner an escalera, requiring a salta- 
tory performance that would not have been so 
bad if I had only known where I should have 
landed in case of falling. After this we scramble 
down a flight of steps cut in the rock, and 
reach the lowest excavation, about one thou- 
sand feet from the surface. 
The cinnabar is found in large pockets, or in 
veins, permeating a kind of trap-rock; and as 
the miners dig it out, large columns‘or pillars are 
left to support the roof, and prevent the chance 
of its falling in. A small charcoal-fire burned 
slowly at the base of one of these massive 
columns, and as its flickering light fell dimly, 
illuminating with a ruddy glow the bronzed faces 
and nearly nude figures of the miners, the ver- 
milion hue of the rugged walls and arched roof, 
sparkling with glittermg crystals, forcibly re- 
minded me of a brigand’s cave, such as Salvator 
Rosa loved to paint. 
All the work is done by contract: each gang 
taking a piece of ground on speculation, is 
