The horses’ bits are made with a ring, which pinches the under-lip when the bridle is tightened, and causes great pain when it is pulled at all hard.  At first sight it seems cruel to use such bits, but the system works very well; and the horses, knowing the power their rider has over them, rarely misbehave themselves.  One rides along with the loop at the end of the twisted horse-hair bridle hanging loose on one finger, so that the horse’s mouth is much less pulled about than with the bridles we are accustomed to in England.  When it is necessary to guide the horse, the least pressure is enough; but, as a general rule, the little fellow can find his way as well as his rider can.  We used continually to let our reins drop on our horses’ necks, and jog on careless of pits and stumbling-blocks.  I have even seen my companion take out his pocket-book, and improve the occasion by making notes and sketches as he went.

[Illustration:  SPANISH-MEXICAN BIT, WITH ITS RING AND CHAINS.  LENGTH 9 INCHES, WIDTH 5-1/2 INCHES.]

The distance from Mexico to Vera Cruz is about two hundred and fifty miles, and what the roads are I have in some measure described.  Rafael Beraza, the courier of the English Mission at Mexico, used to ride this with despatches regularly once a month in forty hours, and occasionally in thirty-five.  He changed horses about every ten or fifteen miles; and now and then, when, overcome by sleep, he would let the boy who accompanied him to the next stage ride first, his own horse following, and the rider comfortably dozing as he went along.

As for our own equipment, Mr. Christy adopted the attributes of the eastern traveller when he came into the country, the great umbrella, the veil, and the felt hat with a white handkerchief over it.  As for me, my wardrobe was scanty; so, when my travelling coat wore out at the elbows and my trousers were sat through—­like the little bear’s chair in the story, I replaced the garments with a jacket of chamois leather, and a pair of loose trousers made of the same, after the manner of the country.  Then came a grey felt hat, as stiff as a boiler-plate, and of more than quakerish lowness of crown and broadness of brim, but secularized by a silver serpent for a hatband; also, a red silk sash, which—­fastening round the waist—­held up my trousers, and interfered with my digestion; lastly, a woollen serape to sleep under, and to wear in the mornings and evenings.  This is the genuine ranchero costume, and it did me good service.  Indeed, ever since my Mexican journey I have considered that George Fox decidedly showed his good sense by dressing himself in a suit of leather; much more so than the people who laughed at him for it.