OX WAGOX LOADED WITH SUGAR CANE AT MOCHIS. 



with the rooster, because he is such a game 

 fighter. In the stricter ' cock fights the 

 cuitchee strain is barred. 



At Fuerte we took the train, a proceeding 

 which, on that occasion, was far more inter- 

 esting to us than mounting a mule. The 

 new track, which is not at present laid be- 

 yond Fuerte, makes a straight line for the 

 Pacific coast. The management is running 

 a train every other day, just for construction 

 purposes, but they found it necessary to put 

 on an extra passenger car the day we trav- 

 eled to the coast, and they had the 2 box 

 cars well loaded with freight. 



We pulled into Topolobampo in the dark, 

 but by the courtesy of the railway officials 

 accommodations had been orovided us at 

 the company's office. After supper we rolled 

 out our beds on the verandah, and, with the 

 waters of the Pacific in full view, to the 

 music of a distant Mexican chorus and the 



occasional splash of leaping fish, we heaved 

 a sigh of deep content, not untempered with 

 regret, at the conclusion of so delightful a 

 trip. 



Topolobampo is a beautiful harbor, com- 

 pletely landlocked. Fish of enormous size 

 abound in its waters, and it is not unusual 

 to see a turtle paddling along the surface. 

 Every conceivable kind of wild fowl, includ- 

 ing pelican and ibis, is to be seen. Among 

 others we secured a specimen of the frigate 

 bird with a spread of 7 feet from tip to tip 

 of the wings. 



We were fortunate enough to obtain 

 passage in the brigantine Consuelo, bound 

 for Guaymas with a cargo of sugar, and 

 after 3 days' delightful cruise up the gulf 

 of California, during which the captain 

 and his crew, all Mexicans, treated us with 

 the greatest possible kindness, we reached 

 our journey's end. 



AUTUMN IS DEAD. 



STACY E. BAKER. 



Autumn is dead ! I watched her die ; I heard 



Her cry a last farewell. The sad old trees 



Sobbed at the parting, and a tearful breeze 



Sighed sadly o'er the frost-bright meadows ; 



stirred 

 Each withered flower with some pleading 

 word 

 Of remonstrance ; the broken symphonies 

 Of birds afar ; the droning of the bees, 

 Near by, prayed that her parting be deferred. 



283 



Down in the wold the rill runs solemn, 

 and 

 Carols the mockingbird in the dale no 



more. 

 Grim Silence, like a sullen cloud o'er- 

 head, 

 Broods somber. All the legions in command 

 Of Boreas are marshalling, and o'er 

 The leas comes Winter's slogan — "Au- 

 tumn's dead !" 



