;:::::::se THE TROPICS ^i^zz: 



One of the Mexicans said that he hoped we were 

 good Catholics, because of that — pointing to the top 

 of the cliff above our camp. I saw nothing but a huge 

 projecting stone. He was astonished that my senses 

 were so dull, and explained that the Virgin was there ; 

 and we found that this legend Avas implicitly believed. 

 Some heretics, so the story goes, once passed through 

 this country, and here the Virgin appeared, the vision 

 instantly converting them. Her image remained in 

 semblance of stone — to Mexican eyes. Our Mexican 

 friend shook his head when he found that we were not 

 Roman Catholics, and day after day we were urged to 

 move, lest, because of our unbelief, a terrible fate over- 

 take us ; but we insisted on remainino- and claimino- 

 the Virgin's protection, and she did not betray us. 



Twilight seemed even shorter here than in the 

 higher altitudes, and we slept too soundly to notice 

 what hints of the tropical life reached our tent that 

 first nioht. 



Our walk to the stream in the early morning led 

 through a little green vale, arched over with dense 

 foliage. The great wide-stretching limbs of trees were 

 all corded together and draped with thick, knotty lianas, 

 which stretched to the ground, or swung clear in great 

 loops — trapezes, swings, and slack-ropes ready for 

 parrot or monkey. Feathery-headed palms reached 

 high above all, their long, straight columns, clean and 

 smooth, piercing the roof of vegetation high overhead. 



<i- 269 #* 



