AN ACCIDENT ON THE ROAD. 



359 



nately for the reader, did not advance much beyond 

 the first line : 



" Adios, Las Casas de Piedra." 



The road was worse than at any time before ; the 

 streams were swollen into rivers, and along the banks 

 were steep, narrow gullies, very difficult to pass. At 

 one of these, after attempting to ascend with my macho, 

 I dismounted. Mr. Catherwood was so weak that he 

 remained on the back of his mule; and after he had 

 crossed, just as he reached the top, the mule's strength 

 gave way, and she fell backward, rolling over in the 

 stream with Mr. Catherwood entirely under. Pawling 

 was behind, and at that time in the stream. He sprang 

 off and extricated Mr. Catherwood, unhurt, but very 

 faint, and, as he was obliged to ride in his wet clothes, 

 we had great apprehensions for him. At length we 

 reached the village, when, exhausted by hard and unin- 

 termitted labour, he gave up completely, and took to 

 bed and the medicine-chest. In the evening nearly all 

 my friends of the dinner-party came to see us. That 

 one day had established an intimacy. All regretted that 

 we had had such an unfortunate time at the ruins, won- 

 dered how we had lived through it, and were most kind 

 in offers of services. The padre remained after the 

 rest, and went home with a lantern in the midst of one 

 of those dreadful storms which had almost terrified us 

 at the ruins. 



The next day again was Sunday. It was my third 

 Sunday in the village, and again it was emphatically a 

 day of rest. In the afternoon a mournful interruption 

 was given to the stillness of the place by the funeral of 

 a young Indian girl, once the pride and beauty of the 

 village, whose portrait Mr. Waldeck had taken to em- 



