slopes of a single ridge. Here, too, are bubbling springs, purling
brooks, dashing cascades, the equals of any in the world. And hither the
tourist, with his destroying touch, will never come.

We had thought to find our wild Mixes living in miserable huts among the
rocks, dressed in scanty native garb, leading half wild lives. We found
good clearings on the hillside; fair fields of maize and peas, gourds
and calabashes; cattle grazed in the meadows; fowls and turkeys were
kept; the homes were log-houses, substantially built, in good condition,
in neat enclosures; men and women, the latter in European dress, were
busied with the duties of their little farms. Clearing after clearing
in the forest told the same story of industry, thrift, and moderate
comfort.

After more than five hours of hard travel we reached the Mixe town of
Ayutla, and rode at once to the _curato_. The priest was not at home. It
was market-day, and people were in town from all the country round. The
men, surprised at sight of strangers, crowded about us; some gazed at us
with angry glances, others eyed us with dark suspicion, some examined us
with curious and even friendly interest. Many of them spoke little or no
Spanish. Thronging about us they felt our clothing, touched our skins,
saddles, baggage, and exhibited childish curiosity. The women at the
_curato_ spoke Spanish, of course; we told them we should stay there
for a day or two, and sent out for the _presidente_. On his coming, we
explained to him our business and asked leave to occupy the _curato_ in
the absence of the priest.

Ayutla is situated on a high terrace, before which opens a lovely valley
and behind which rises a fine mountain slope. The village church, while
large, is roofless; the town-house lies below the village, and by it