just about to reach the place, where it was planned to repack for the last time; it was just daylight, and Eustasio was congratulating us upon our prompt arrival; we drove to the brink of a dry stream, on the other side of which was our resting-place; just at that instant, we heard the other driver cry out; we stopped, and found that the baggage-cart was overturned.  This dashed all hopes.  There was unhitching, unloading, the making of a new axle, and reloading.  It was plain that we could not reach La Frontera.  While the men were putting things to rights, we strolled up the dry stream-bed to a shanty, where Eustasio told us we could breakfast.  There was a well there, with fresh water, and the shanty, for the refreshment of travellers, consisted of nothing but a little shelter of poles.  Here, however, we found baked tortillas, atole, and hard meat; the breakfast for four persons, cost twenty-five centavos, equal to ten cents American money.  Through the day, birds were hunted and skinned, reading and writing carried on, until at half-past-three in the afternoon we were again ready for movement.  The road was now sandy, and not dusty, the sand being produced by the decomposition of crystalline rocks.  Mounting to a high llano, we shot a pair of curious birds, which looked like water-birds, but were living in a dry place and were able to run with great speed.  They were of the size of a hen, and had a long beak, long legs and four flat though not webbed toes.  At the end of this high llano, we passed the Hacienda of Agua Blanca, a property belonging to the jefe of Juchitan.  From here, we descended rapidly over a poor road, coming out at nine onto the straight road from Tapanatepec, at this point four leagues behind us.  From here on, the whole road was familiar to me.  La Frontera was just ahead, and, arriving there at 10 o’clock, we spent an hour.  Before us rose a massive mountain, the ascent of which seemed appalling.  We could see a white line of road zigzagging up its side, and well remembered Governor Leon’s pride in having constructed a cart-road against great natural difficulties.  Thirty or forty ox-teams had gathered here, either ready to make the ascent, or resting, after having come down the mountain.  Having gotten breath and courage, we started at about eleven.  The road had suffered during the five years since I last passed over it, but was still an excellent work of engineering.  As we mounted, zigzagging constantly, the magnificent view over the valley widened; each new turn increased its beauty.  My companions were asleep, and had had so little rest recently, that I hated to disturb them for the view.  When, however, we were two-thirds up the slope, they awakened, and were as delighted as myself.  We all got out, and walked for a considerable distance.  An astonishing number of little streams and pools of fresh water burst forth from the rocks, and cut across the road or flowed along its sides.  Finally, we reached the summit, and began the descent.