home-going, however, was mere pretense. No sooner was the _presidente_
gone than he came staggering into the _patio_ of the _curato_. The women
ran into our room, in terror: "The _fiscal_ comes; bar the door; do
not let him in." A moment later a feeble rap at the door, a call and
a mournful request for admission; the barricaded door gave no
encouragement. At intervals through the morning there came the flying
maids: "He comes! don't let him in." Again and again the barricade;
again and again, the vain appeal for entrance. We left Ayutla at noon.
We had scarcely well started when we heard some one calling behind us.
Turning, we saw the _fiscal_, running unsteadily toward us. We waited;
he came up out of breath. "_Ya se va_?" (Now you are leaving?) "_Si,
señor_," (Yes, sir.) With a look of despair he removed his hat, and
fumbling in its depths produced two cigarettes; presenting one to each
of us, he waved his hand as we rode away and cried: "_Adios! señores_."

For some distance our road led up a cañon. Reaching its head, we gained
the pass at two o'clock. A wonderful sight here presented itself. Above
us was a brilliant blue sky--cloudless; every detail of the rock crest
upon which we stood was clear. Forested to its summit, the ridge formed
the half of a magnificent amphitheatre, whose slopes had been vertically
furrowed at a hundred points by torrents; to the left a spur projected,
the crest of which sloped gently downward, forming an enclosing wall
upon that side. Before us, beyond the valley, was a boundary line of
mountain masses, sharply outlined against the sky. Lower ridges, nearer
to us, paralleled this distant rampart. The only apparent outlet from
this valley was around the spur to our left. Looking down upon this
magnificent valley, we saw it occupied by a sea of clouds, the level
surface of which looked like a lake of water flecked here and there with
whitecaps. The higher hills within the valley rose like islands from the
water; to the left a mighty river seemed to flow around the spur, out