woman's kindness. 



87 



ain, we came to a beautiful stream, where a gray-haired 

 Indian woman and a pretty little girl, pictures of youth 

 and old age, were washing clothes. We dismounted, 

 and sat down on the bank to wait for the muleteer. I 

 forgot to mention that he had with him a boy about thir* 

 teen or fourteen years old, a fine little fellow, upon whom 

 he imposed the worst part of the bwden, that of chasing 

 the mules, and who really seemed, like Baron Munchau- 

 sen's dog, in danger of running his legs off. 



Our breach with the muleteer had not been healedj 

 and at first we ascribed to him some agency in our trou- 

 bles at Comotan. At all events, if it had not been for 

 him, we should not have stopped there. All day he had 

 been particularly furious with the mules, and they had 

 been particularly perverse, and now they had gone 

 astray ; and it was an hour before we heard his spiteful 

 voice, loading them with curses. We mounted again^ 

 and at four o'clock saw at a distance a hacienda, oii 

 the opposite side of a valley. It stood alone, and prom- 

 ised a quiet resting-place for the night. We turned off 

 from the camino real into a wild path, stony, and over- 

 grown with bushes, and so steep that we were obliged 

 to dismount, let the mules go ahead, and hold on our- 

 selves by the bushes to descend. At the foot of the hill 

 we mounted and crossed a stream, where a little boy, 

 playing in the water, saluted me by crossing his arms 

 upon his breast, and then passed on to Mr. Catherwood. 

 This was a favourable omen ; and, as we climbed up a 

 steep hill, I felt that here, in this lonely spot, away from 

 the gathering-places of men, we must meet kindness. 

 On the top of the hill a woman, with a naked child in 

 her arms and a smile on her face, stood watching our 

 toilsome ascent ; and when we asked her if we could 

 make posada there, she answered, in the kindest phrase 



