ISTHMUS OF TEHUANTEPEC 



107 



I am moved to tell of my experience at Achotal, not to deter the 

 timid or comfort loving from venturing into this part of the country, 

 but as a bit of history, for within a very few months it will cease to be 

 a pioneer railroad terminal, with its tramps, its native workmen, and its 

 flourishing cantina, and it will settle down as a safe, prosaic, Mexican 

 way station. In fact, this change was almost due when I was there, for 

 track had been hastily laid and construction trains run down to Santa 

 Lucretia, where it is to join with the National Tehuantepec Railway. 

 This construction train, by the way, we were to take some time about six 

 o'clock in the morning, and after riding about fifteen kilometers, I planned 

 to stop at Santa Rosa, and thus reach a large private rubber plantation 

 operated by an oldtime friend of mine. 



LA FLORENCIA. PLANTATION HOUSE. 



To be left in a town like Achotal at one o'clock in the morning, with 

 the knowledge that it would be hard work to get a bed, is not a partic- 

 ularly cheerful prospect. One of my planter friends, Mr. W. L. Adams 

 of Ixtal, however, whom I shall always remember gratefully, piloted 

 me across the muddy track, walked me over a narrow, springy plank 

 which rested against a. steep bank, and I saw fronting me the few palm 

 thatched native huts which make up the town. Entering one of these, 

 we found that there was no room at all, every available space being taken 

 by canvas cots and conscientious snorers. Leading me further up the 

 hill, however, he forced his way into another hut, roused the owner, and 

 finally secured for me a cot. This I took possession of, and prepared to 



