flowers on a little table near by, or, if the gift were a large bouquet of real flowers, handed it to one of the attendants standing near, and then made a polite speech of response, emphasizing it with vigorous gestures and plainly expressive of much interest and earnestness.  The delegation then took its leave, always bowing reverently, and each man kissing the governor’s hand as he passed out.  As he received this mark of respect, the governor would make a playful remark, or pat the persons on the head, or otherwise treat them as a father might his little children.  Instantly the flowers were cleared away, the next delegation ushered in, and the same ceremony gone through with.  Finally, all was ready for our leaving.  The party consisted of five persons—­myself, as leader, Mr. Lang, my American photographer, Don Anselmo, my Mexican plaster-worker, Manuel, and the mozo.  All but the mozo were mounted on horses, more or less good or bad.  The mozo, Mariano, a Mixtec indian, went on foot, carrying the photographic outfit on his back, and our measuring-rod in his hand.  It was well on in the afternoon before we started, and hardly were we outside the town, before Mr. Lang’s horse showed signs of sickness.  His suffering was plain, and every person we met volunteered the information that unless something was done promptly, we should have a dead horse on our hands.  Going to a little shop on the roadside, where strong drinks were sold, we stopped, and after preparing a remedy with the help of a passing Indian, threw the horse down, wedged his mouth open, and gave him what seemed to be an unsavory draught.  More than an hour was lost out of our already short afternoon by this veterinary practice, and long before we reached Etla, where we were compelled to pass the night, it was dark.

Leaving Etla in the morning, looking down as we passed out from the city upon a wonderful group of mounds, we passed rather slowly through the town of Huitzo.  Don Anselmo and I loitered, as we found the whole country to be rich in ancient relics, examples of which were to be found in almost every house.  As the afternoon passed, we found that we were likely to be completely left by our companions, and were forced to hasten on.  The latter part of the daylight ride was up a continuous, and at times steep, ascent.  As the sun neared setting, we reached the summit and found ourselves close by the station of Las Sedas, the highest point upon the Mexican Southern Railway.  We had there expected to overtake the others of our party, but found that they had hurried on.  It was a serious question whether we should try to overtake them.  It had been wisdom to have stayed the night where we were.  In this uncertainty, we met an indian boy driving mules toward Oaxaca, who volunteered the information that he had met our companions, who were just ahead, and that we would soon overtake them.  This decided us, and we started down the trail.  A heavy wind was blowing, and the night air was cold