ROADSIDE SKETCHES IN GUATEMALA 93 



picturesque, where, even with the aid of great-coats and fires, 

 it is almost impossible to keep out the intense cold. The short 

 railway from San Jose, the Pacific port of Guatemala, runs 

 through a narrow lane cut in the thick jungle, a tangled mass 

 of tropical vegetation, the underwpod of which was covered for 

 long distances with a most luxuriant creeper in full bloom, a 

 large mauve convolvulus. Here and there we passed a few 

 native huts of bamboo and thatched with plantain or palm 

 leaves, in the centre of small clearings, the playground of naked 

 children, pigs, and fowls ; then the country became more open ; 

 we ran through a partly cleared cattle-ranch, passed fields of 

 green sugar-cane, and at last came to a stop at the very neatly- 

 kept station of Escuintla, the present terminus of the railway, 

 which will shortly be open as far as Guatemala itself, the 

 capital, forty-five miles distant. Here our six mules awaited us, 

 which we had luckily telegraphed for from the last port in San 

 Salvador ; they were soon loaded with our baggage and en route 

 to the capital, while we took up our quarters for the night at 

 the hotel. The inn had two stories, unlike almost all the other 

 houses in Guatemala, which, in consequence of frequent earth- 

 quakes, have only one. The rooms opened on to an inner 

 verandah and balcony, running round the square courtyard, and 

 were fairly clean, though very crowded. It was Sunday and a 

 "festa," and therefore everything was en fete, and everybody en 

 grande tenue. We did as others did, we went to church, attended 

 a cock-fight, listened to the military band on the plaza, to 

 the small cannon and large rockets let off on the cathedral 

 steps at evening Mass, I suppose to wake up the powers above, 

 ate "frijoles," but we did not gamble at cards afterwards, or 

 indulge too largely in aguardiente. Very bright and pretty 

 looked the market-place on which, under giant mat umbrellas, 

 sat the Indian women sheltered from the sun, selling their black 

 and white beans, melons, oranges, limes, plantains, &c. While 

 the women were busy in the market or at their devotions in the 

 somewhat dilapidated church, the husbands, attired in their best 

 clothes, were occupied most of the day in winning or losing 

 money at the ancient national amusement of cock-fighting. 

 Attracted to the spot by the sounds of the marimba, we paid a 

 small fee at the door, and found the arena established in the 

 inner yard, and a large excited crowd assembled, busy with the 



