TWO NIGHTS IN SOUTHERN MEXICO. 95 



scarcely a square foot of roof or wall was to be seen. 

 Even the church was concealed in a garland of orange- 

 trees, and had lianas and star-flowered creepers climb- 

 ing over and dangling from it, up as high as the 

 slender cross that surmounted its square white tower. 

 As we gazed, the first sign of life appeared in the 

 village. A puff of blue smoke rose curling and spiral 

 from a chimney, and the matin bell rang out its sum- 

 mons to prayer. Our Mexicans fell on their knees 

 and crossed themselves, repeating their Ave-marias. 

 We involuntarily took off our hats, and whispered 

 a thanksgiving to the God who had been with us in 

 the hour of peril, and was now so visible to us in His 

 works. 



The Mexicans rose from their knees. 



" Vamosf Senores," said one of them, laying his 

 hand on the bridle of my mule. " To the rancho, 

 to breakfast." 



We rode slowly down into the valley. 



