236 



INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 



village of San Martin, which, with loveliness and gran- 

 deur all around us, might have been selected for its sur- 

 passing beauty of position. We rode to the cabildo, 

 and then to the hut of the alcalde. The people were 

 all Indians ; the secretary was a bare-legged boy, who 

 spelled out every word in the passport except our names; 

 but his reading sufficed to procure supper for us and 

 provender for the mules, and early in the morning we 

 pushed on again. 



For some distance we rode on a lofty ridge, with a 

 precipitous ravine on each side, in one place so narrow 

 that, as our arriero told us, when the wind is high 

 there is danger of being blown off. We continued de- 

 scending, and at a quarter past twelve reached San 

 Andres Petapan, fifteen miles distant, blooming with 

 oranges, sapotes, and other fruit trees. Passing through 

 the village, at a short distance beyond we were stopped 

 by a fire in the woods. We turned back, and attempt- 

 ed to pass by another road, but were unable. Before 

 we returned the fire had reached the place we left, 

 and increased so fast that we had apprehensions for 

 the luggage-mules, and hurried them back with the 

 men toward the village. The flames came creeping 

 and crackling toward us, shooting up and whirled by 

 currents of wind, and occasionally, when fed with dry 

 and combustible materials, flashing and darting along 

 like a train of gunpowder. We fell back, keeping as 

 near as we could to the line of fire, the road lying along 

 the side of a mountain ; while the fire came from the 

 ravine below, crossing the road, and moving upward. 

 The clouds of smoke and ashes, the rushing of currents 

 of wind and flames, the crackling of burning branches, 

 and trees wrapped in flames, and the rapid progress of 

 the destroying element, made such a wild and fearful 



