A COTTON FACTORY. 



29 



land, which it was customary to cross in a bungo, send- 

 ing the mules around the head of the gulf. I was ad- 

 vised that the latter was hazardous, as the Honduras 

 troops were marching upon San Salvador, and would 

 seize them. I might save them by going myself; but 

 it was a journey of six days, through a country so des- 

 olate that it was necessary to carry food for the mules ; 

 and as I had still a long road beyond, I felt it necessa- 

 ry to economize my strength. I was loth to run the 

 risk of losing my mules, and sent a courier to EI 

 Viejo, where the owners of the bungoes lived, to hire 

 the largest, determined to run the risk of taking them 

 with me. The next morning the courier returned, hav- 

 ing procured a bungo, to be ready the next evening, 

 and with a message from the owner that the embarca- 

 tion must be at my risk. 



Obliged to wait the day, after breakfast I started for 

 Realejo. On the way I met Mr. Foster, the English 

 vice-consul, coming to see me. He turned back, and 

 took me first to the machino or cotton factory, of which 

 I had heard much on the road. It was the only one in 

 the country, and owed its existence to the enterprise of 

 a countryman, having been erected by Mr. Higgins, 

 who, disappointed in his expectations, or disgusted with 

 the country from other causes, sold it to Don Francisco 

 and Mr. Foster. They were sanguine in their expecta- 

 tions of profit ; for they supposed that, by furnishing a 

 market, the people would be induced to work and raise 

 cotton enough for exportation to Europe. The re- 

 sources of this distracted country are incalculable. 

 Peace and industry would open fountains which would 

 overflow with wealth; and I have no doubt the influ- 

 ence of this single .factory will be felt in quieting and 

 enriching the whole district within its reach. 



