Caridad is a neat little town, of about three hundred inhabitants, situated on a level plateau nearly surrounded by high mountains,—­the valley of the river, both above and below, being reduced to its narrowest limits.  To the northeastward of the town, and on a shelf of the Lepaterique Mountains, which rise abruptly in that direction, and are covered with pine forests to their summits, is distinctly visible the Indian town of Lauterique,—­its position indicating clearly that it had been selected with reference to defensive purposes.  We had seen its white church from El Portillo, looking like a point of silver on the dark green slope of the mountain.

Rain fell heavily during the night; but the morning broke bright and clear.  The increased roar of the river, however, made known to us that it was greatly swollen, and when we walked down to its brink we found it a rapid and angry torrent, with its volume of water more than double that of the previous day.  This was not an encouraging circumstance; for we had learned, that, if we intended following up the stream, instead of making a grand detour over the mountains, it would be necessary to ford the river, about a mile above the town.  All advised us against attempting the passage. "Manana,” (Tomorrow,) they said, would do as well, and we had better wait.  Meanwhile the waters would subside.  Nobody had ever attempted the passage after such a storm; and the river was "muy bravo" (very angry).  I have said that all advised us against moving; but I should except the second alcalde, who had taken a great fancy to us, and wanted to enter our service.  His dignity did not rebel at the position of arriero or muleteer; any place would suit him, so that we would agree to take him finally to “El Norte,”—­for such is the universal designation of the United States among the people of Central America.  He shared in none of the fears of his townsmen, and told them, that, fortunately, all the world was not as timid as themselves, and wound up by volunteering to accompany us and get us across.  We gladly accepted his offer, and started out with the least possible delay.  I need not say that we made rather an anxious party.  The unpromising observations of the preceding day, and the possibilities of the mountains’ closing down on the river so as to forbid a passage, were uppermost in every mind; but all sought to hide their real feelings under an affectation of cheerfulness, not to say of absolute gayety.  As we advanced, and rounded the hills which shut in the little plateau of Caridad on the north, we saw that the high lateral mountains sent down their rocky spurs towards each other like huge buttresses, lapping by, and, so far as the eye could discern, forming a complete and insurmountable barrier.  Over the brow of one of these, a zigzag streak of white marked the line of the mule-path.  Our guide traced it out to us with his finger, and assured us that it traversed a bad portillo,