GTJEGUETENANGO. 



227 



a mild climate, luxuriant with tropical productions, sur- 

 rounded by immense mountains, and before us the great 

 Sierra Madre, the natural bulwark of Central America, 

 the grandeur and magnificence of the view disturbed 

 only by the distressing reflection that we had to cross 

 it. My macho, brought up on the plains of Costa Rica, 

 had long seemed puzzled to know what-mountains were 

 made for ; if he could have spoken, he would have cried 

 out in anguish, 



u Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise." 



Our day's journey was but twenty-seven miles, but it 

 was harder for man and beast than any sixty since we 

 left Guatimala. We rode into the town, the chief place 

 of the last district of Central America and of the an- 

 cient kingdom of Quiche. It was well built, with a 

 large church or plaza, and again a crowd of Mestitzoes 

 were engaged in the favourite occupation of fighting 

 cocks. As we rode through the plaza the bell sounded 

 for the oracion or vesper prayers. The people fell on 

 their knees and we took off our hats. We stopped at 

 the house of Don Joaquim Monte, an old Spaniard of 

 high consideration, by whom we were hospitably re- 

 ceived, and who, though a Centralist, on account of 

 some affair of his sons, had had his house at Chiantla 

 plundered by Carr era's soldiers. His daughters were 

 compelled to take refuge in the church, and forty or 

 fifty mules were driven from his hacienda. In a short 

 time we had a visit from the corregidor, who had seen 

 our proposed journey announced in the government 

 paper, and treated us with the consideration due to per- 

 sons specially recommended by the government. 



We reached Gueguetenango in a shattered condition. 

 Our cargo-mules had their backs so galled that it was 



