RUINS AT OCOSINGO. 



257 



upon our thatched roof, and the worst mountains in the 

 whole road were yet to be crossed. All our efforts to 

 anticipate the rainy season had been fruitless. 



In the morning dark clouds still obscured the sky, but 

 they fell back and hid themselves before the beams of 

 the rising sun. The grass and trees, parched by six 

 months' drought, started into a deeper green, and the 

 hills and mountains seemed glad. The alcalde, I be- 

 lieve vexed at our not being willing to make an imme- 

 diate affair of exploring the ruins, had gone away for 

 the day without sending us any guide, and leaving word 

 that all the men were engaged in repairing the church. 

 We endeavoured to entice one of them away, but un- 

 successfully. Returning, we found that our piazza was 

 the schoolhouse of the village. Half a dozen children 

 were sitting on a bench, and the schoolmaster, half tip- 

 sy, was educating them, i. e., teaching them to repeat 

 by rote the formal parts of the church service. We 

 asked him to help us, but he advised us to wait a day 

 or two ; in that country nothing could be done vio- 

 lenter. We were excessively vexed at the prospect of 

 losing the day ; and at the moment when we thought we 

 had nothing left but to submit, a little girl came to tell 

 us that a woman, on whose hacienda the ruins were, was 

 then about going to visit it, and offered to escort us. 

 Her horse was already standing before the door, and 

 before our mules were ready she rode over for us. We 

 paid our respects, gave her a good cigar, and, lighting 

 all around, set out. She was a pleasant Mestitzo, and 

 had a son with her, a fine lad about fifteen. We started 

 at half past nine, and, after a hot and sultry ride, at 

 twenty minutes past eleven reached her rancho. It 

 was a mere hut, made of poles and plastered with mud, 

 but the situation was one of those that warmed us to 



Vol. II.— K k 



