ATTACKS OF MOSCHETOES. 



277 



being caught on the mountain by a hurricane and del- 

 uge of rain, we spurred down as fast as we could go. 

 It was a continued descent, without any relief, stony, 

 and very steep. Very often the mules stopped, afraid 

 to go on ; and in one place the two empty mules bolted 

 into the thick woods rather than proceed. Fortunately 

 for the reader, this is our last mountain, and I can end 

 honestly with a climax : it was the worst mountain I 

 ever encountered in that or any other country, and, un- 

 der our apprehension of the storm, I will venture to say 

 that no travellers ever descended in less time. At a 

 quarter before five we reached the plain. The mount- 

 ain was hidden by clouds, and the storm was now ra- 

 ging above us. We crossed a river, and continuing 

 along it through a thick forest, reached the rancho of 

 Nopa. 



It was situated in a circular clearing about one hun- 

 dred feet in diameter, near the river, with the forest 

 around so thick with brush and underwood that the 

 mules could not penetrate it, and with no opening but 

 for the passage of the road through it. The rancho 

 was merely a pitched roof covered with palm-leaves, 

 and supported by four trunks of trees. All around 

 were heaps of snail-shells, and the ground of the rancho 

 was several inches deep with ashes, the remains of fires 

 for cooking them. We had hardly congratulated our- 

 selves upon our arrival at such a beautiful spot, before 

 we suffered such an onslaught of moschetoes as we had 

 not before experienced in the country. We made a 

 fire, and, with appetites sharpened by a hard day's 

 work, sat down on the grass to dispose of a San Pedro 

 fowl ; but we were obliged to get up, and while one 

 hand was occupied with eatables, use the other to brush 

 off the venomous insects. We soon saw that we had 



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