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with bushes, and in a ravine reached the Michetoya River, which I had crossed at Istapa. It was narrow and rapid, breaking wildly over a stony bed, with a high mountain on the opposite side. Following it, we reached the cataract, consisting of four streams separated by granite rock, partly concealed by bushes, and precipated from a height of about two hundred feet, forming with the wild scenery around a striking and romantic view. A little below it were a sugar-mill worked by water, and an uncommonly fine hacienda, which commanded a view of the falls, and at which I was very much disposed to pass the night. The major-domo, a black man, was somewhat surprised at my visit; but when he learned that I did not come to see the mill, but only the falls, he seemed to suspect that I was no better than I should be; and when I asked him if I could reach San Cristoval before dark, he answered that I could if I started immediately. This was not exactly an invitation to stay, and I left him. It shows the want of curiosity and indolence of the people, that, though these falls are but a pleasant afternoon's ride from Escuintla, which for two months is thronged with visiters from Guatimala, nobody ever visits them.

Hurrying back by the same wild path, we reached the main road, and, as it was late, I hired my guide to go on with me to San Cristoval. We passed through the village of San Pedro, which was a collection of miserable huts, with an estanco or place for the sale of agua ardiente, and thronged with half-intoxicated Indians. As we advanced, clouds began to gather around the mountains, and there was every appearance of heavy rain. I had no cloak or greatcoat, and, being particu larly apprehensive of fevers and rheumatisms, after riding about a mile I returned to San Pedro. The most

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respectable citizens of the place were reeling round the estanco, and urged me to stop; but my guide said they were a bad set, and advised me to return and pass the night at the sugar-mill. Presuming that he knew the people of whom he spoke better than I did, I was no way inclined to disregard his caution. It was after dark when we reached the trapiche; some of the workmen were sitting around a fire smoking; others were lying asleep under a shed, and I had but to

"Look around and choose my ground, And take my rest."

I inquired for the major-domo, and was escorted to a mud house, where in the dark I heard a harsh voice, and presently, by the light of a pine stick, saw an old and forbidding face corresponding, and by its side that of a young woman, so soft and sweet that it seemed to appear expressly for the sake of contrast; and these two were one. I was disposed to pity her; but the old major-domo was a noble fellow in heart, and she managed him so beautifully that he never suspected it. He was about going to bed, but sent men out to cut sacate, and both he and his wife were pleased that accident had brought me to their hut. The workmen sympathized in their humour, and we sat for two hours around a large table under the shed, with two candles sticking up in their own tallow. They could not comprehend that I had been to the top of the Volcano de Agua, and then ridden down to the coast merely to see the Pacific. A fine, open-faced young man had a great desire to travel, only he did not like to go away from home. I offered to take him with me and give him good wages. The subject was discussed aloud. It was an awful thing to go away from home,

and among strangers, where no one would care for him. His house was the outside of the major-domo's hut, but his home was in the hearts of his friends, and perhaps some of them would be dead before he returned. The wife of the major-domo seemed a good spirit in tempering the hearts and conduct of these wild and half-naked men. I promised to give him money to pay his expenses home when he should wish to return, and he agreed to go with me. At three o'clock the old major-domo was shouting in my ears. I was not familiar with my own name with the don prefixed, and thought he had "waked up the wrong passenger." The courage of the young man who wished to travel failed him, and he did not make his appearance; in the expectation of his going my guide did not come, and I set out alone. Before daylight I passed for the third time through the village of San Pedro, and a little beyond overtook a bundle on horseback, which proved to be a boy and a woman, with one poncha over both.

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The River Michetoya was foaming and breaking in a long succession of rapids on our right, and we rode on together to San Cristoval. I rode up to the convent, pounced upon the cura at the witching hour of breakfast, mounted again, and rode around the base of the Volcano de Agua, with its cultivated fields and belt of forest and verdure to the top. Opposite was another volcano, its sides covered with immense forests. tween the two I passed a single trapiche belonging to a convent of Dominican friars, entered a large and beautiful valley, passed hot springs, smoking for more than a mile along the road, and entered among the nopals or cochineal plantations of Amatitan. On both sides were high clay fences, and the nopals were more extensive than those of the Antigua, and more valuable,

A ROVING AMERICAN.

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as, though only twenty-five miles from it, the climate is so different that they produce two crops in each season.

Approaching the town, I remembered that Mr. Handy, who had travelled from the United States through Texas and Mexico with a caravan of wild animals, had told me in New-York of an American in his employ, who had left him at this place to take charge of a cochineal plantation, and I was curious to see how he looked and flourished in such employment. I had forgotten his name, but, inquiring on the road for an American del Norte, was directed to the nopal of which he had charge. It was one of the largest in the place, and contained four thousand plants. I rode up to a small building in the middle of the plantation, which looked like a summer-house, and was surrounded by workmen, one of whom announced me as a " Spaniard," as the Indians generally call foreigners. Dismounting and giving my mule to an Indian, I entered and found Don Henriques sitting at a table with an account-book before him, settling accounts with the workmen. He was dressed in the coton or jacket of the country, and had a very long beard; but I should have recognised him anywhere as an American. I addressed him in English, and he stared at me, as if startled by a familiar sound, and answered in Spanish. By degrees he comprehended the matter. He was under thirty, from Rhinebeck Landing, on the Hudson River, where his father keeps a store, and his name was Henry Pawling; had been a clerk in New-York, and then in Mexico. Induced by a large offer and a strong disposition to ramble and see the country, he accepted a proposal from Mr. Handy. His business was to go on before the caravan, hire a place, give notice, and make preparations for the exhibition of the animals. In this capacity he had travelled

all over Mexico, and from thence to Guatimala. It was seven years since he left home, and since parting with Mr. Handy he had not spoken a word of his own language; and as he spoke it now it was more than half Spanish. I need not say that he was glad to see me. He conducted me over the plantation, and explained the details of the curious process of making cochineal. He was somewhat disappointed in his expectations, and spoke with great feeling of home; but when I offered to forward letters, said he had resolved never to write to his parents again, nor to inform them of his existence until he retrieved his fortunes, and saw a prospect of returning rich. He accompanied me into the town of Amatitan; and as it was late, and I expected to return to that place, I did not visit the lake, but continued direct for Guatimala.

The road lay across a plain, with a high, precipitous, and verdant wall on the left. At a distance of a league we ascended a steep hill to the table-land of Guatimala. I regret that I cannot communicate to the reader the highest pleasure of my journey in Central America, that derived from the extraordinary beauty of scenery constantly changing. At the time I thought this the most delightful ride I had had in the country. On the way I overtook a man and his wife on horseback, he with a game-cock under his arm, and she with a guitar; a little boy was hidden away among bedding on a luggagemule, and four lads were with them on foot, each with a game-cock wrapped in matting, with the head and tail only visible. They were going to Guatimala to pass the Christmas holydays, and with this respectable party I entered the gate of the city, on the eighth day after my departure. I found a letter from Mr. Catherwood, dated at Esquipulas, advising me that he had been rob

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