When the jefe came, we found, to our surprise, that he was the Don Pablo Leyra of whom Xochihua had told us two years before.  He is a pure indian, tall, smooth-faced, of gentlemanly manner, and with all the reserve characteristic of his race.  He has lived at Huehuetla since boyhood, forty-four years, till just now, and has but recently come to take the position of jefe politico.  He has not yet moved his family from Huehuetla, and occupies a single room in his office-building.  He secured us a pleasant room, with good beds for the older, and good mattresses for the younger, members of our party, in a house near-by upon the hill.  The jefatura fills one side of the little plaza; around the other side are tiendas, with high-pitched single roofs, and private houses.  The town suffers much from nublina, and is cold most of the time.

[Illustration:  INDIANS FISHING IN STREAM]

[Illustration:  PAGANISM AND CHRISTIANITY]

We asked Don Pablo about the lake, concerning which we had heard.  He says it is not as much visited as formerly.  While used by Otomis, and others of this district, it is most favored by the Huaxtecs, parties of whom go there from long distances.  They visit it when there is drought, for fear that the siren, who lives in it, is annoyed at their neglecting to make gifts; when there is too copious rain, they visit it to beg her to desist from sending more, and, when crops have been destroyed, to placate her anger.  Sometimes two or three hundred indians are in these companies.  They bring munecos of wood, cloth, clay, or even metal; such are shod, clad and hatted.  They leave these upon the shore.  They also bring seeds and strew them in the water, and some throw money in.  They also make offerings of turkeys and hens.  Sometimes these bands spend several days on the shore, dancing and eating.

We found that Don Pablo had arranged all our plans.  We were to leave at nine, dine at twelve at San Bartolo, leave there at one, and reach Huehuetla between five and six.  It was really only a quarter-past-nine when we did start, and the jefe, himself, saw us on our way.  The journey was uneventful; the descents were gradual; we saw San Bartolo long before we reached it; and, between it and us, there lay a valley, like a narrow gash, down which we had to go, and up the other side of which we had to climb.  We passed Santa Maria, an insignificant town, just before reaching the edge of this gully.  From there we saw, in the mountain ahead, above and behind San Bartolo, a great cavern which we believe must belong to witches.  Arriving at San Bartolo, we found the market in full progress, and had ample opportunity to see the characteristic dress of the women, with the little black, red and purple designs embroidered upon the white ground.  We were impressively received at the town-house, for Don Pablo had telephoned them to be ready.  Still, we waited a long time for