228 CENTRAL AMERICA. 



fifteen feet broad ; " there are no roads like 

 this anywhere else.'* 1 — " Certainly not," was 

 the reply (it is always best to assent in such 

 cases), "but what is the name of that beau- 

 tiful lake on the left T 



" Quien sabe ?" who knows, — was the reply 

 of one who saw nothing beautiful in a mag- 

 nificent sheet of water, surrounded by pictu- 

 resque wooded hills, rocks, and mountains. 

 " But see," Don Jorge, " here is a bresil- 

 tree (logwood) ; there has been a great deal 

 cut down and sent to the coast." 



" I know it, but surely that lake must 

 have some communication with the end of the 

 Nicaragua lake ; they are so near, and there 

 seems a quebrada, or gully, that joins them." 



" Quien sabe ? Ah, this cigar, Don Jorge, 

 is from the c llanos ; ' you must have had it 

 sent you from Granada," — and so on. 



I have always found that the most beau- 

 tiful and romantic sites of nature fail to 

 rouse up one single particle of enthusiasm, 

 or even common admiration, in a wild, un- 

 educated mind. I remember once travel- 

 ling over about fifty miles of almost a desert 

 in Chili, when my peon said to me, " When 

 we get to the top of those small sand-hills 

 we shall see the most beautiful view in the 



