194 



JOURNEY ACROSS 



one this evening as he endeavoured to mount a 

 young and timid horse. Before his leg was well 

 thrown across the saddle the animal plunged 

 violently, and gave his rider so severe a fall that 

 he has not yet recovered from the effects of it. 



We reached a place called Fraile Muerto, to 

 sleep — a village with about twenty houses in it, 

 on the banks of the Tercero. Here I tried to 

 bathe, but was disappointed. The water was 

 deep and rapid, and the banks were so slippery, 

 that however easy to slip in, " revocare gradum," 

 to get out again, would have been an insur- 

 mounable difficulty. We found here a shop 

 with cotton goods, and plenty of bread. Of the 

 latter we bought enough for that evening and 

 two more days. At only one place before 

 have we met with bread in any quantity. Ge- 

 nerally, to our demand for it, the answer has 

 been, a No hay, Senor, no hay/' in a tone 

 expressive of surprise and contempt, for any 



