we left these woods and made our way up amongst the hills, the sun was riding high in the heavens, the pastures and green trees disappeared, and though the country was still fertile and the soil rich, its beauties lay hid in the valleys below. K's horse received a sort of coup de soleil, shivered and trembled, and would not go on; so she mounted another, and one of the mozos led her's slowly by a different road to a village, to be watered. About one o'clock we began to wish for breakfast, but the mules which carried the provisions had taken a different path, and were not in sight, so that, arriving at an Indian hut close by a running stream, we were unanimous in dismounting, and at least procuring some tortillas from the inmates. At the same time, the Count de B very philanthropically hired an old discolored-looking horse, which was grazing peaceably outside the hut, and mounting the astonished quadruped, who had never, in his wildest dreams, calculated upon having so fine a chevalier on his back, galloped off in search of more solid food, while we set the Indian women to baking tortillas. He returned in about half an hour, with some bones of boiled mutton, tied up in a handkerchief! some salt, and thick tortillas, called gorditas, and was received with immense applause. Everything vanished in an incredibly short space of time, and we resumed our journey with renewed vigor. Towards the afternoon we entered the State of Michoacan, by a road (destined to be a highway) traced through great pine forests, after stopping once more to rest at Las Millas, a few huts, or rather wooden cages, at the outskirts of the wood. Nothing
