The arrieros as I have said frequently travel alone. A figure of wild appearance, with matted hair, torn pantaloons, and ragged shirt or blanket—driving a rugged and quaintly-accoutred mule—is often entrusted with some of the most valuable articles of traffic which the country produces. A less trustworthy person, in appearance, it would be difficult to imagine; but as their employment, and even existence, depends on their reputation for honesty, they are deserving of every confidence. Their faithfulness, indefatigable perseverance, constant care, and self denying endurance, are beyond all praise, and form a remarkable exception to the general character of the Mexican populace.
One bright summer morning, an arriero set out from the city of Chihuahua, with an unusually precious cargo on the back of his mule, including a small quantity of coin, and several bars of silver. Considerable precautions had been taken by his employer; and as secrecy and despatch were necessary in the transmission, he commenced his journey privately, under the impression that his errand and destination were unknown to his acquaintances and comrades.
