was dotted with flaming heaps.  On every church and farm-house of large size, straight lines of little bonfires were built along the edges of the roof.  There must have been many hundreds of fires in sight at once.  Meanwhile, all the churches of the little hamlets around clanged their bells discordantly.  Then the church close by us burst into illumination, and its bells joined in the clangor as we started down the hill.  The villagers were putting torches to the piles, and children were dancing in the glare, shooting off their little rockets and adding their full share to the general confusion.

In the olden time Huixquilucan had a bad reputation for highway robberies.  A great hill overlooking the town is called the hill of crosses, and here a cross by the wayside usually signifies a place of murder.  Many a traveller in the not distant past found his way from here as best he could to the capital city minus burden and money, minus hat and shoes, and sometimes minus clothing.  They used to say that from Toluca to the city a man was robbed three times; the first time they took his money, the second his watch and valuables, the third, his clothes.  We were told that the church here, the chief church of our Otomi friends, is called “the church of the thieves,” and that it was even lately a favorite resort of ladrones, who prayed for blessing upon their thieving expeditions and for release in case they should be taken captive.  And not so long ago, among the little silver votive offerings,—­eyes, legs, arms, hands,—­all given in fulfillment of promises for the cure of ailing members,—­one might see little chains and manacles, visible evidence that saint or Virgin had kindly released some fellow, taken in his misdeeds, from a well deserved punishment, in answer to his pious prayers.

Below the station of Dos Rios a little ravine borders the main valley.  There, within sight of the track on one side of the ravine lies the stone which long ago “fell from the moon.”  It is a great boulder, with flat lower surface, and round upper surface, sufficiently large for a considerable party to camp on.  The earth is washed away somewhat from below it, and on its under side are rude figures painted in imitation of suns and circles and symbolic designs.  It is said that the indians throughout the country around respect this rock, making prayers and offerings to it.

One of Huixquilucan’s pretty hamlets is Agua Bendita,—­blessed water,—­near the upper, narrowing end of the valley.  A dozen or so houses compose the settlement.  Near it, upon a little side gorge, two lovely springs burst forth from the rock.  From them a babbling stream of sparkling water flows, in which, in the bright sunshine, women wash clothes, and lay them out on bushes or grassy banks to dry; little naked children play about while the mothers labor; hither dusky maidens come to perform their toilets; here women fill their ollas with water; here pulque-gatherers wash and