THROUGH THE SIERRA MADRES. 
2 I I 
Mexican mule delights, and in which you 
won’t. It likes to deviate enough to go 
under every low-branched tree on the 
trail, and so universal is this trait of char¬ 
acter that the trail seems to lead from 
one low tree or vine to another, just as 
the mule has a mind to make it. The 
dodging of limbs and branches among 
the pines, cypresses, and oaks in the high 
lands was not so bad, but down in the 
tierra caliente or hot lands, where brambly 
mesquite and thorny vines were tearing 
crescents out of your clothes until 
you looked like a group of Turkish 
ensigns, it was much more monotonous. 
The beast I was compelled to ride had 
one ear cut off near the head, and looked 
top-heavy in the extreme. As a mule’s 
ears make up a goodly portion of it, as 
seen in elevation from the saddle on its 
