toward the opposite shore, and as much against the stream as possible; but with all his efforts he could make no headway, and was swept bodily down by the current toward a wreck of broken trees and branches that bent over the water from the bank we had quitted. I spurred, whipped, encouraged him, without avail. He made another effort; but failing in that, kept his head above water and resigned himself to the tide. I felt my situation to be dangerous, especially as I was rapidly approaching the long and sharp branches, by which I knew that I should be severely injured. I resolved, therefore, to leap off and swim for the bank, which was not more than a dozen paces distant. But, at that moment, Pedro galloped down to the point opposite which I was drifting, and, as I was about executing my purpose, I saw his lasso, flung with great accuracy, settle around my animal's head. With the end wound round his saddle-bow, Pedro stood firmly on the shore, and, in a minute, the action of the current had swung my horse on soundings. Drenched as I was, I shall ever hereafter feel a debt of gratitude to a lasso—which is rarely felt for anything in the shape of a noose.
My companion and myself continued our journey, both wet, (for he had fared not much better than myself,) but both gratified with our drenching, as it had the effect of a bath, while the evaporation of the water from our soaking clothes, cooled and refreshed us.
Thus through valley and glade, (rarely meeting an Indian or passing one of their miserable houses,) and without intelligence of our party, we pushed onward until about six o'clock in the evening, when we reached a wide and cultivated plain, traversed by a considerable stream, resembling in its verdant banks and soft meadows set in a frame of lofty mountains, the scenery about the sources of our Potomac. We had not long journied over this plain before we passed the hacienda of Miacatlan. At a short distance, to the right of it, appeared the village of Tetecala. As soon as a passing Indian mentioned the name, we recollected it to be that of our halting-place for the night.
We speedily passed an Indian suburb, buried, as usual throughout the tierra caliente, in flowers and foliage, among which lounged the idle and contented population. Here we were met by a guide, who had been sent forward by our courteous entertainers, and we were soon under the shelter of their friendly roof.
Our horses were quickly unsaddled and bounding over the wide corral; and refreshed by a clean suit and a cigarrito, I had strolled over the tasteful village, and visited the market and the church (one of the neatest I have seen, especially in the simple and true taste of its architecture, and the arrangement of the altar and the pulpits,) before our companions made their appearance. It turned out, after all, that they—not we—had mistaken the road, and had wandered much out of their way under the direction of a guide. It is better sometimes to have none.
In addition to all our antiquarian researches, to-day we have travelled nearly fifteen leagues, and although I have earned a right to a soft pillow
