288 



INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 



yet a little while longer the individuals to whom they 

 had once belonged. Within the enclosure the earth 

 was covered several feet deep with the promiscuous 

 and undistinguishable bones of rich and poor, high 

 and low, men, women, and children, Spaniards, 

 Mestizoes, and Indians, all mingled together as they 

 happened to fall. Among them were fragments of 

 bright- coloured dresses, and the long hair of women 

 still clinging to the skull. Of all the sad mementoes 

 declaring the end to which all that is bright and 

 beautiful in this world is doomed, none ever touched 

 me so affectingly as this — the ornament and crown- 

 ing charm of woman, the peculiar subject of her 

 taste and daily care, loose, dishevelled, and twining 

 among dry and mouldering bones. 



We left the campo santo, and walked up the long 

 street of the village, the quiet, contented character 

 of the people impressing itself more strongly than 

 ever upon my mind. The Indians were sitting in 

 the yards, shrouded by cocoanut and orange trees, 

 weaving hammocks and platting palm leaves for 

 hats ; the children were playing naked in the road, 

 and the Mestiza women were sitting in the door- 

 ways sewing. The news of our digging up the 

 bones had created a sensation. All wanted to know 

 what the day's work had produced, and all rose up 

 as the cura passed ; the Indians came to kiss hi$ 

 hand, and, as he remarked, except when the crop of 

 maize was short, all were happy. In a place of 

 such bustle and confusion as our own city, it is im- 

 possible to imagine the quiet of this village. 



