140 Mr. O. Salvin's Quesal-shooting in Vera Paz. 
March 7.—Soon after starting I shot a fine specimen of 
/ Accipiter erythrocnemis, and shortly afterwards one out of a pair 
of Ictinia plunibea. This last species seems to be particularly 
partial to patches of pine trees, which grow at intervals all 
through the Alta Vera Paz. The road was no improvement 
upon that of yesterday, and though we had not far to go, it was 
late in the afternoon when we reached Lanquin. Finding that 
Fray Domingo Lopez, the Padre Cura of Cajabon, was in the 
village, we went to the convent and there put up. 
March 8.—As it is necessaiy to take a c practico 9 or guide 
with us to the mountains, I had purposed spending a day in 
Lanquin to find one, and also two Indians, as two of those hired 
at Coban have to return with the mules and saddles. A guide is 
absolutely necessary, as my companions have never explored these 
districts; and a knowledge of those parts most frequented by the 
Quesals, as well as of the springs of water, is indispensable to the 
success of the expedition. Moreover we might lose ourselves 
in these forests for days, and the consequences would be serious. 
Most places have their * lion/ and Lanquin is not an exception to 
the rule; the Hion* in this case being a cave, out of which the 
river of Lanquin emerges. This stream helps to swell the river 
of Cajabon, and finally flows into the Polochic. The interior of 
the cave is said to be beautifully festooned with stalactites. It 
becoming known that we have resolved on an inspection of it, a 
number of Indians, boys and men, follow us from the village, and 
these, with two I have hired to carry pine for torches, swell our 
party to some twenty individuals. Each takes his bundle of 
chips, and all having fired their torches, we go in. These caves 
are always curious and interesting to see; but the half-naked 
Indians, each with his lighted torch, scrambling about the rocks 
in all directions and shouting to the echoes, enhance the 
strangeness of the scene. After winding in and out and climb- 
ing up and down among slippery stones, now stooping to pass 
a narrow opening, now gazing upwards into vacant blackness 
or downwards into similar obscurity, we reach the point where 
the liver flows at the bottom of the cavern, not in an unbroken 
stream, but among large masses of rock, over which we scram¬ 
ble. Having satisfied curiosity, and the torches beginning to 
