CASA REAL OF KEWICK. 



69 



sight ; and, to increase the wondering interest which 

 attended every step of our journey in that country, 

 it stood on the platform of an ancient terrace, 

 strewed with the reUcs of a ruined edifice. The 

 steps of the terrace had fallen and been newly laid, 

 but the walls were entire, with all the stones in place. 

 Conspicuous in view was Mr. Catherwood with 

 our servants and luggage, and, as we rode up, it 

 seemed a strange confusion of things past and pres- 

 ent, of scenes consecrated by time and those of ev- 

 ery-day life, though Mr. Catherwood dispelled the 

 floating visions by his first greeting, which was an 

 assurance that the casa real was full of fleas. We 

 tied our horses at the foot of the terrace, and ascend- 

 ed the steps. The casa real had mud walls and a 

 thatched roof, and in front was an arbour. Sit- 

 ting down under the arbour, with our hotel on this 

 ancient platform, we had seldom experienced higher 

 satisfaction on reaching a new and unknown field 

 of ruins, though perhaps this was owing somewhat 

 to the circumstance of finding ourselves, after a hot 

 and perplexing ride, safely arrived at our place of 

 destination. We had still two hours of dayhght; 

 and, anxious to have a glimpse of the ruins before 

 night, we had some fried eggs and tortillas got ready, 

 and while making a hasty meal, the proprietor of 

 the rancho, attended by a party of Indians, came 

 to pay us a visit. 



This proprietor was a full-blooded Indian, the 

 first of this ancient but degraded race whom we had 



