A RIDE FROM THE PACIFIC TO MEXICO CITY 125 



over the low country, which thus resembled a lake, out of 

 which abruptly rose the mountains, while the tops of the 

 smaller hills appeared like islands above the surface of the 

 misty vapour. The men we met on the road were all clad 

 in the white loose national dress, muffled up in a bright- 

 coloured serape, with broad brimmed huge Mexican hat, and, 

 of course, never without a machete. We always exchanged 

 a friendly greeting with any travellers, and never did they 

 molest us in the very least ; on the contrary, they always 

 seemed glad to see one, and did all they could to afford 

 assistance in any way in their power. We had our first trot 

 on this day over a comparatively level country, until once 

 more the road took us among the mountains and into the 

 most grandly beautiful scenery. A magnificent panorama lay 

 before us when, after a laborious ascent, we reached the crest 

 of the pass ; nothing but mountains everywhere, peaks rising 

 behind peaks in the most picturesque confusion as far as the 

 eye could reach. The nearest mountains were clad in bright 

 yellow grass, a golden background to the clusters of deep 

 green pine-trees and their reddish-brown polished-looking 

 trunks. The sierra beyond was covered with dense forest 

 nearly to the top, where it was bare but for some brushwood 

 which grew but sparsely. Here and there large masses of 

 claret-coloured naked rock stood out boldly, contrasting 

 sharply with the variegated green around. Mountains suc- 

 ceeded mountains, gradually as the distance increased becoming 

 more and more blue ; so did the valleys also, until their 

 shading became deeper and more sombre at their lowest depths. 

 The bright clear atmosphere, the cloudless sky, the sparkling 

 dewdrops still hanging from the leaves, the bright-coloured 

 flowers, the butterflies and birds which gave animation and 

 lent colour to the scene, completed the charming picture, the 

 beauty of which it would be impossible to describe fitly. At 

 10.30 a.m. we arrived at Acahuizotla, a village in a small but 

 fertile valley, surrounded by high mountains and magnificent 

 gorges. A cane-mill here was still driven in the primitive 

 manner by eight horses. As twenty-four miles still remained 

 to be done, we left again at 1.15, in spite of the terribly hot 

 sun ; the road was, as usual, very bad, the country bare, hardly 

 covered with dry grass even. We arrived at the hotel of 



