last sharp mountain spur, and with the Büfa rising high on the left, its enormous crest of rock above like the dorsal fin of some fossil monster, with a glow of red gold over all the western sky, and the evening star shining palely in the east, we rested on the crest of the hill above the dark, little, sleeping town, with only three faint points of light to indicate its location or give any sign of life.
When we passed next morning down the steep slope into the city, a long line of convicts, under direction of an armed guard, were carrying earth upon their backs, in bags, up the side of a long embankment, and into a fortified place above, which was being repaired. Grouped about, and giving the grave attention of idle people to each detail, were a number of Mexican men, women, and children, picturesque in rags and brilliant scarfs. In recognition of a bow in passing, the convicts lifted their hats and showed so many sets of white teeth and gleaming eyes; such a careless, easy-going set of criminals it would be hard to find elsewhere.
The narrow streets were well paved, wonderfully clean, and furnished on one side with raised pavements; open archways looked into little
