The next day was Sunday, and we made no attempt to continue work.  It was market-day, and indians from all the pueblos had gathered in the plaza to buy and sell.  All were pure in blood and spoke Tarascan.  Fruits, sugar-cane, corn, tortillas, atole, coffee, were the chief staples.  Stocks of pottery were attractively displayed.  Two characteristic wares are both pretty.  Most typical, perhaps, is the black and green ware which is made into bowls, plates, mugs, and pitchers.  The clay of which it is baked is local and dark brown in color; a white earth applied to this, on baking, gives rise to a rich metallic green glaze.  Designs are painted upon this in black.  This black and green ware goes far and wide, and everywhere is recognized as coming from the Once Pueblos.  At Huancito and some other pueblos, they make little canteras with a red ground and decorative designs in black and white.  One thing, offered in the market, was new to us, dishes full of ucuares—­long, irregular, swollen, dry, brown objects that looked like stewed worms with thick and fleshy skins.  One centavo bought far more than any person would be likely to eat; even after having been stewed in sugar, they were bitter, and had a foul smell that was most unpleasant; they appeared to be roots or tubers of some plant.

Naturally, our work had attracted much attention in Chilchota.  No one of the many dozen visitors who came to see us at the meson was so profoundly impressed as a boy of fourteen, named Ignacio.  Appearing early in the morning, he remained with us almost all the hours of the twenty-four.  Thinking that the effect on the villagers might be good, I decided to ride in the afternoon through the pueblos.  When the presidente discovered my intention, he insisted upon supplying a mounted and armed escort, and at the same time gave me a general letter to the eleven towns, in which strict orders were given that my wishes should be respected, and dire threats made in case any one should show me aught but the greatest consideration.  Ignacio accompanied me.  Riding through the towns, we passed far enough beyond Huancito to see the most remote of the eleven pueblos.  They are separated somewhat from the rest, and lie rather higher up in a bend of the valley.  Everywhere I took some pains to talk with the people, to visit their houses, to examine their pottery, their bees and their growing crops, as I felt that such an interest would help us in our work.  On our return, Ignacio told me that he should stay to dinner with us, as he much preferred to do so to going home.  He also told me that it would be a great pity to lose the theatre, which was to take place that evening.  Accordingly, after dinner was over, we went to see the play.  I expected that at that season of the year it would be a pastorela—­and in fact it had been so announced.  It was, however, a true drama, and one of the funniest—­unintentionally—­imaginable.