:;::::::»i TWO BIRD -LOVERS IN MEXICO ;*::::::::: 



our former camjiing-places and resting during the lieat 

 of the day. By twihght we made Tonila, the halfway 

 village, nestling at the very foot of the mountain of 

 fire. The usual j'zes^a was in full swing, for which we 

 were glad, as it ensured an abundance of suoav ice- 

 cream. This we enjoyed all the more when we learned 

 that the snow was brought by Mexicans in sacks from 

 the lofty frozen summit of the fire mountain's dead 

 sister peak. 



The little plaza was a weird sight that night. The 

 wide-open doors of the dim church revealed the 

 figures of kneeling women and children. Outside, the 

 flickering light of a multitude of bark-torches flared 

 unsteadily, throwing lights and shadows among the 

 crowd of Mexicans. Now and then an unearthly gloAv 

 fell upon all and then died out — the eternal torch 

 of the overhanging' volcano. The Mexicans bought 

 imlque and diilces and listened to the pitiful little 

 band. Once, at a more flourishing period in the an- 

 nals of Tonila, the natives had erected an elaborate 

 and gaudy band-stand, which was now falling into 

 ruin. Though their numbers had lessened and their 

 pesos dwindled to an all-pervading poverty, yet their 

 love of music was no whit less. In the centre of the 

 dilapidated platform stood a lonesome little group of 

 four. On the floor was a low box. On its centre a 

 candle. On each side of the dim light was a jjiece of 

 tattered music. With two worn-out violins, a guitar, 



<4 260 ^ 



