by precipitous banks, but gliding along the surface, as it were, and
reflecting, in its deep blue waters, the rustling tule which fringed
the margin. An occasional pecan or live-oak flung a majestic shadow
athwart its azure bosom, and now and then a clump of willows sighed
low in the evening breeze.

Far away to the north stretched a mountain range, blue in the
distance; to the south, the luxuriant valley of the stream. The
streets were narrow, and wound with a total disregard of the points
of the compass. Could a stranger have been placed blindfold in one
of them, and then allowed to look about him, the flat roofs and light
appearance of most of the houses would have forced him to declare that
he had entered a tropical town of the far east.

Many of the buildings were of musquit pickets, set upright in the
ground, lashed together with strips of hide, and thatched with the
tule before mentioned. There were scarce three plank-floors in the
town; by far the greater number being composed of layers of pebbles,
lime, and sand, rolled with a heavy piece of timber till quite
compact; daily sprinkling was found necessary, however, to keep down
the dust, produced by constant friction.

The wealthy inhabitants built of sun-dried bricks, overcast with a
kind of stucco. Yet, unfortunately, the plastering art died with the
Montezumas, for the most vivid imagination failed to convert this
rough coating into the "silver sheen" which so dazzled Cortes's little
band. The reader will exclaim, "I can fancy no beauty from so prosy a
description. Thatched roofs and dirt floors, how absurd!"

Although a strict analysis might prove detrimental, I assure you the