had set long before we reached the bottom, and through the darkness, we had to climb up over the steep dugway in the sandy clay to the village, which we reached at seven.  The little room supplied us for a sleeping-place was clean and neat, the floor was strewn with fresh and fragrant pine-needles, and the wooden beds were supplied with petates.  Leaving before eight, the following morning, we travelled through a beautiful canon, with an abundant stream of whitish-blue water, tumbling in fine cascades among the rocks, and dashing now and then into deep pools of inky blackness.  Having passed through it, our bridle-trail plunged abruptly downward.  From it, we looked upon a neighboring slope, cut at three different levels, one above the other, for the cart-road.  Passing next through a small canon of little beauty, but where the air was heavy with an odor like vanilla, coming from sheets of pale-purple or violet flowers, on trees of eight or ten feet in height, we reached San Sebastian, where we found our carretero, whom we supposed to have reached San Cristobal the day before.  Rating him soundly, and threatening dire consequences from his delay, we resumed our journey.  We were also worried over our mozo, who started from Chiapa at noon, the day before, with our photographic instruments, and whom we had not seen since, although there were several places where we would gladly have taken views.  From here, for a long distance, the road was a hard, steep climb, over limestone in great variety—­solid limestone, tufaceous stuff, concretionary coatings, satin spar, and calcite crystals.  Having passed a small pueblo, or large finca, lying in a little plain below us, we looked down upon Zinacantan.  The descent was quickly made, and passing through the village, without stopping, we made a long, slow, ascent before catching sight of our destination, San Cristobal.  It made a fine appearance, lying on a little terrace at the base of hills, at the very end of the valley.  Its churches and public buildings are so situated as to make the most impression; on account of its length and narrowness, the town appears much larger than it really is.  We entered at one end, and then, practically, paralleled our trail through it to the centre, where we stopped at the Hotel Progreso, at 3:30 in the afternoon.  We went to the palace, and made arrangements so promptly that we could have begun work immediately, if the carretero and mozo had not been behind.  As it was, we waited until next day, and were warned by the secretario at the jefatura that there would not be enough light for work before nine o’clock.  In the evening, we called on Padre Sanchez, well known for his study of the native languages, and the works he had written regarding them.  He is a large man, well-built, of attractive appearance, and of genial manner.  He has been cura in various indian towns among the Chamulas, and he loves the indians, and is regarded as a friend by them.