PORT OF NA60SC0LO. 



31 



net-maker in Lima, two looking-glasses with gilt frames, 

 a French clock, gilt chairs with cane bottoms, and two 

 Boston rocking-chairs, which had made the passage 

 round Cape Horn. Don Francisco went over to the 

 commandant. He, unluckily, had received his orders 

 direct from the government, and dared not let me pass. 

 I went over myself with Mr. Foster. The order was 

 positive, and I was in agony. Here I made a push with 

 my official character, and after an hour's torment, by 

 the warm help of Mr. Foster, and upon his undertaking 

 to save the commandant harmless, and to send an ex- 

 press immediately to Leon for a passport from the chief 

 of the state, it was agreed that in the mean time I might 

 go on. 



I did not wait long, but, taking leave of Mr. Foster 

 and Don Francisco, set out for the port. It was seven 

 leagues, through an unbroken forest. On the way I 

 overtook my bungo men, nearly naked, moving in sin- 

 gle file, with the pilot at their head, and each carrying 

 on his back an open network containing tortillas and 

 provisions for the voyage. At half past two we reach- 

 ed the port of Nagoscolo. There was a single hut, at 

 which a woman was washing corn, with a naked child 

 near her on the ground, its face, arms, and body one 

 running sore, a picture of squalid poverty. In front 

 was a large muddy plain, through the centre of which 

 ran a straight cut called a canal, with an embankment 

 on one side dry, the mud baked hard and bleached by 

 the sun. In this ditch lay several bungoes high and 

 dry, adding to the ugliness of the picture. I had a 

 feeling of great satisfaction that I was not obliged to re- 

 main there long ; but the miserable woman, with a tone 

 of voice that seemed to rejoice in the chance of making 

 others as miserable as herself, desisted from washing 



